The Herbalist
by Massa
Summary: Angela's past has been hidden from all until she decided to reveal all in her autobiography. Nothing more needs to be said, does it?
1. Foreword

Foreword:

The only thing I hate more than writing is staring at a blank piece of paper. I have never found myself at a loss for words except when I try to write. That, my own handwriting is nearly indecipherable, and because my hand cramps up so badly I am tempted to rip the words I have just written, have kept this story from reaching paper before. But, as Solembum has agreed to write this while I dictate, the story will be told.

Nobody knows anything of me or my past save an extremely small group. And those few who do have knowledge only know the snatches that I saw fit to share with them. After all, my past belongs to me. I have decided to write this because of the chance I will not make it through the war. I intend on living, do not misunderstand, but no one can know for sure, not even me. If I am to die, I would wish for my story to survive, to live on as a legend.

Now, on a more cheery note, here is one of the things that few know. I was born with the name Meira, but I am better known as Angela. Angela the herbalist. In my opinion, the name Meira is for some flowery girl-child who cannot get along on her own in the world while Angela is a name which fits me much better. It's the name I chose for myself. In this following work, I will reveal for the first time my history, starting with the occasion of my birth.

**A.N. Now I know it is really short and explains nothing, but I just wanted to throw something out there. Before I continue, I would like to know if anyone would actually be interested in this story. It would cover Angela's life, from the time she was born to probably right after she meets Eragon, though I could go farther if there was interest. I am working on getting the right voice, so give me time. She is hard to write. I have an outline. The story would be approximately thirty chapters, some long and some very short. I would update probably about once a week if I am to go with this. So is anyone interested? I don't want to write this if no one will read. Leave a comment or just a simple yes or no.**


	2. I

**A.N. Yeah… So, all the chapters are just going to be labeled with Roman Numerals. I have a hard time creating chapter names so I am just putting numbers, but because of the foreword, all of my numbers would be messed up with the numbers before them and I can't deal with that. Somehow, the problem vanishes with letters representing numbers. Therefore, Roman Numerals. Slightly O.C.D. yes, I know, but what can you expect from someone who organizes their books daily. Don't judge me. Well, if anyone actually cared enough to read that, enjoy the story. (Now you see how I can write from the perspective of a slightly batty person.) And wow, I apologize for all of that. I think I'll just pass it off to Angela now. Oh, one more thing, little interjections by Angela will be separated from the story with an m-dash. –like this, see? –**

–I suppose it this _was _to be titled, I could call it childhood or early life–

I could lie. I could say I was the poor daughter of a farmer, born and raised in a distant and rural village, working hard to make a living and help put food on the table. But as I said, that would be a lie. My parents were not poor. I was not poor. When I was born, great things were already expected of me.

I never deny anything that makes others think of me as more interesting, and because of that, I am astounded at the rumors I have heard about myself. Some of these rumors amuse me greatly. That I am a renegade elf, in disguise to hide from the queen. I have been alive since the beginning of time. I even heard once that someone had said I was a spirit, trapped in human form. Where do people come up with these things, I do not know, but once I actually stumbled upon a rumor that just happened to be true. Naturally, I stifled it as soon as it reached my ears as you would imagine. The man was spreading the rumor I was the daughter of two riders.

I was born on a moonless night under the stars of Ellesméra, long after everyone had gone to bed. The only people awake that night were my parents. My mother's name was Eliza. Before she had become a dragon rider, she had been nobody. Living in a small house in a forgotten corner of Gil'ead, no one would have known her name. My father's past was different. His name was Mathieu and he had been born with privilege. He was the firstborn son of the lord of Gil'ead. An elven rider came one day with three dragon eggs. Two of the eggs found their riders there. And strangely, the man who would have one day been the woman's leader became, in an instant, her equal.

–This story is going to be more difficult to tell than I thought. Especially if I get off track this easily. Anyway, shall we continue? –

As soon as I was born, each of my parents laid upon me a blessing. My mother blessed me with a sharp wit and successful endeavors, my father with luck and that I would be where things were happening. Little did they know how much those blessings would shape my life.

– Unsurprisingly, I have few memories from those first years, but everything I remember will be written here. –

As elf children are rare. I was a novelty in Ellesméra. I was spoiled. Everyone knew my name. Elves brought me gifts and told me stories. I had even met the king and queen of the elves. But when I was two, an elf child was born and I was shunted aside for him. My parents were relieved by the sudden quiet in their lives. Over the next few years, they raised me in peace. My parents spent the first years of my life teaching me to walk and talk, and the rest of it telling me to sit down and shut up.

–I was fourteen when I met my best friend. –

"Meira!" My mother's voice called out to me. "Just where do you think you are going?"

"Where I am going, of course." I responded with a grin. "Where else could I possibly go?" Laughing, I took off at a sprint and dove into the trees before she could stop me. My parents had long since given up on chasing me when I ran. Surprisingly vain, it embarrassed them to be seen by the elves running after their unmanageable child.

Of course, it would have been easier to simply clean up the mess I had made searching for the poem I had composed, but I had no intentions of cleaning. I knew if I hid long enough, my mother would tire of looking at the mess and clean it.

So I ran, taking special care to stay under the thick trees. I learned my lesson last time. It I strayed into the open, my parent's dragons would pick me up and carry me home in their talons. Heedless of where my feet were taking me, I did not pay attention to where I was going until I collided into my father as he was taking a walk. I bounced off him and landed on the springy moss. He merely took a step back.

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Now, Meira, you are too old to be acting like such a child." He chided, speaking of my blind running, but I knew he would be even more disappointed when he heard what mess I'd left for my mother to clean.

"Yes, father." I stood and brushed off my clothing. My mother was soft. I had no memory of her ever yelling at me or raising her voice, but I knew my father would not hesitate to punish me. I walked away at a carefully controlled pace until I was well out of his sight. Then I searched for a place to hide.

_Meira! _My father's voice sounded in my head and I slammed up barriers. I am sure he regrets ever teaching me that trick, because soon after, even he could not break through the walls. I crawled under an overhang and waited, leaning against the cool dirt. Then there were footsteps and I held my breath. My father couldn't have found me that quickly. A head bent down to look under the overhang.

"What are you doing?"

It was the elf boy. I had never actually spoken to him. His interests and mine had been extremely different, and besides, I had always found most elves dull. "Why I'm hiding, of course." I rolled my eyes and stated it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But really? I was crouched underneath an overhang in the dirt. What did he think I was doing? "Get down!" I grabbed his arm and unceremoniously pulled him into the dirt.

"What was that fo-" I clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Look." I hissed. A deep purple form glided over the trees.

"Isn't that your father's dragon?" He whispered.

"I'm hiding from my father."

"Do you do this every day?" He sounded amazed. Elf child or not, he was impressed by my mischief.

I nodded with a smirk. I had no doubt the elves had twisted him into some rule following child who never broke the rules or talked back. "Usually…" My words broke off as the purple dragon landed hard in the clearing. His head snaked to stare at me. "He found us. Run!" I grabbed the startled boy's hand and we took off through the woods. Being an elf, he was faster, but I had some speed, more than an average human.

We were looking back, watching the massive dragon gaining on us when suddenly our feet found no purchase. Too late, I saw where we were. Falling into the little river that ran into Ellesméra. The cold shocked me and I struggled to stand, only to be splashed in the face by the boy who had fallen in beside me. Outraged that he had managed to land on his feet, and that he took advantage of my fall to splash me, I tackled him before he could react. He was entirely soaked before the dragon stood at the edge of the river.

_Meira. _The dragon's voice was bursting with amusement. _You deserved that. _I stuck out my tongue insolently and the elf beside me stared in horror at my disrespecting a dragon.

The boy raised two fingers to his lips. "Atra esterni ono thelduin, Vanilor."

Amused, the dragon responded. _Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr. __Meira, please tell me you have not enlisted him in your misdeeds._

"I didn't want him to give my hiding spot away."

The dragon stared at me for a long time before beginning to laugh, deep rumbling laughter. _You look a bit cold. _I glanced at the elf standing next to me. We were both shivering violently. _Come here. _We stumbled from the icy water. It had thawed only a week earlier and the water was frigid. He looked us over. _Meira, your father wants to speak with you. And you, I suppose I cannot leave you here freezing in the woods, and it is her fault you are in this mess. I'll bring you home._

I climbed onto the dragon's high back and the boy followed with an expression of stunned disbelief. I realized he had most likely never ridden a dragon. Vanilor took to the air and a few minutes later landed in front of one of the homes. An elf woman walked out and her eyes widened at the sight of her drenched son on the back of a dragon. He slid to the ground and Vanilor turned to the elf. _Do not blame him. This is all Meira's doing. _I rolled my eyes and the elf took her son's hand and led him inside. Before we were gone, he turned and waved to me.

Smiling, I waved back to Vanir.

–Shall we take a break here, Solembum? –

**So… what did you think? I'm working on getting the voice right. I have to beat out what school has instilled in my brain.**

**Hey, guess what just made my day! Anyone? I just programmed my keyboard to let me type with accent marks! Um, yeah, I need to see more of my friends. But, anyway, I can get the names right now. Don't forget to leave a review. More review equals more remembered memories. On the other hand… she is old, memory loss? WHAT! I'm not trying to threaten you. It's more of like a bribe. *winks. Hit the blue button and I promise shorter author's notes and long chapters?**


	3. II

**A.N. After midnight and instrumental folk music all the way! No really, that is where this story is coming from. It is my personal cure to writer's block and it has yet to fail. And yes, I will claim rights to that. Try it if you don't believe me that it works. (Put Peter Ostroushko into Pandora for good music.) I promised a shorter authors note so I will end it here. R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that have appeared in the Inheritance Cycle or anything else recognizable from the series. However, the storyline is completely mine.**

–Solembum is calling me an indolent and acerbating excuse for a human being for putting this off so long after promising h to tell my story, and though I admire his word choice, it was still hurtful and terribly rude. Besides, the cat spends his day sleeping. Filthy hypocrite. He is calling me off right now. I suppose we should move on with the story.–

The next morning I walked to Vanir's house and knocked on the door before moving behind the edge of the doorway and out of sight from the door. Vanir opened it and looked around, confused. As he was about to close the door, I jumped out and he started before grinning widely at me. "Do you like climbing trees?" I asked with a mischievous grin.

He stared at me and nodded slightly as if unsure why I was asking him this. All elves occasionally went into the branches of the massive trees of Du Weldenvarden, but I was positive none had ever climbed higher than I. "Well, come on then." I laughed, running off towards the forest. He followed at my heels, a slow grin spreading over his face as we ra. I knew exactly where I was taking him. After the Menoa tree, this was the largest tree I had ever discovered in Du Weldenvarden.

"That one." I pointed as he admired the pine. "I have been to the very top." I said, bursting with pride at remembrance of the feat.

"That is impossible." His voice was half disbelief and half amazement as he stared up at the massive tree. I smirked. It always amused me how enthralled the elves were with trees and this one was magnificent, even in my eyes.

"Things are only impossible until they're not." I quipped, grinning as he paused to think about what I had just said. "Come on. I'll race you." Without waiting for his answer, I scrambled up the tree, much like a gangly human squirrel. By the time he had reached the first branch, I was fifty feet higher. Despite his elven heritage and physical advantage, experience proved a much more useful tool in what we were doing. It may have been a bit unfair, as I knew all the footholds and the easiest path for the particular tree, but he didn't need to know that.

I climbed until I reached a wide branch several hundred feet above the ground and that had a clear view over all the other treetops. I waited for him, and eventually he pulled himself onto the branch as well. "It's amazing." He said, staring over the trees.

I grinned. "It is like the ocean, but green and made of trees. See, the wind even makes waves here." For a while we both sat silentl, watching the breeze ripple across the trees. "Now that I showed you my secret place, you have to share one of your secrets with me." The idea had just come to me as I spoke it, but the elf noticed nothing, thinking it a fair bargain.

The boy bent close in my ear and whispered. "I know how we can sneak into the gardens by Tialdarí Hall. I have done it once before."

"But if we were to ask, they would let us in."

He frowned and then smiled again. "But my way is more fun."

I considered him for a while and then nodded. "When can we go?"

"How about now? I bet I can beat you down. You got a head start the first time." While I was still looking over the rippling treetops, he was already partway down the tree, leaping from branch to branch as if he were not a few hundred feet above the ground. I still caught up quickly, descending with blatant disregard for safety, my only thought being that of victory.

With a triumphant cry, I prepared to jump the last fifteen feet to the ground and glanced up to see Vanir still seventy feet high. As I watched, the branch he jumped too broke underneath him. Vanir's feet scrambled for purchase as the branch dropped. I called out, but was unable to do anything. As he was about to catch the branch, his head slammed against the bark and I watched in horror as his eyes closed and he tumbled unconscious toward the ground.

Unable to move, I watched Vanir falling to his death. At the last moment, instinct took over. "Kodthr!" I shouted and he seemed to begin falling more slowly, but I was too late and he slammed into the ground with a terrible crack. The next moment, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion which threatened to knock me from my tree branch, but I clambered down the trunk and stumbled to my friend's side before kneeling. He was unconscious and bleeding. It seemed as if many of his bones were broken from the deformed shape of his body on the ground.

He was dying. _Vanilor! _I called out to my father's dragon as I gave in to my exhaustion.

–My first display of magic would have been astounding for an elf, and for a human, it was unprecedented. It would be impressive for a highly trained spellcaster, but at that moment, I don't think I even registered the fact that yes, it was magic I used.–

A hand was gently brushing my cheek and I opened my eyes to find myself in my mother's arms. She looked extremely worried, but smiled when I woke. I, however, was not about to be put off. "Vanir?" I asked weakly, forcing myself to stand and running to where a group was crowded around. My head spun at the sudden movement and I was astounded by my own weakness. They hadn't moved Vanir from the mossy ground he had fallen to. His mother was crying as his father held her, and they tried to reassure each other.

I pushed through the healers and knelt beside him. One of the women made an attempt to move me, but I ignored her. It seemed like hours of them working over my friend before a tall male healer spoke. "He will live, but we cannot heal him completely yet. It will be a couple days before he will be strong enough to walk." I began to cry and as they lifted him away, my father had to take me in her arms to hold me back.

The elven queen, Islanzadí, walked over and I hastily raised my fingers to my lips and spoke the ritual greeting. She replied in a cold voice and I flinched. "What happened? Vanilor brought us here to find both of you unconscious and Vanir near death. What did you do? Was this one of your stunts?"

I tried to hide in my mother's arms, but the queen's eyes still pierced me.

–The elf queen has always scared me. Still does as a matter of fact and I am not ashamed to admit it. If anyone tells you they are not at least a little bit afraid of her, they have either never met her, or are a liar. I am pretty sure that even her daughter is afraid of her. But, anyway. –

Evandar stepped forward and knelt in front of me. "Do you trust me, child?" I looked up at him. I liked the king. I nodded slowly and met his eyes. "Good. Now none of us will hurt you. I promise. No matter what has happened here. Now, will you tell me what has transpired?"

Doing my best to focus only on him and not his mate, I told him about meeting Vanir and us going to climb the tree we were near. I said as we were descending, a branch broke and Vanir fell. Evandar accepted this and looked up to see the stub of the broken branch. Upon seeing this, he raised his eyebrows.

"What else, Meira? How did he not die?"

I could not help a faint smile despite my tremendous worry for my friend. "I saw him fall from the first branch and I caught him with magic."

Evander's eyes widened and he looked at me. "You caught him with magic? From that height?"

"I will show you the memory if you would allow me."

He nodded and I relayed the memory of seeing Vanir fall and using magic before climbing down from the tree. Evander nodded and looked up to my parents. "Take her to get some rest. She deserves it. And after that, we will find her a teacher for magic."

I fell asleep as my father carried me to our massive tree house.

**Yeah… sorry about the lateness, but we went on vacation and then family randomly showed up to stay at our house and my mom wouldn't let me use my laptop. I wrote this in half an hour so; it may be out of character or choppy. Next chapter contains an elf whose personality and quirkiness rival Angela's. Anyway, for a quicker update, review! A random review number has been chosen. The person who leaves that review will have a chapter dedicated to them. Anyone who guesses the number may help create a name for a n awesome character. But only if it's your first guess. On your marks… Get set… REVIEW!**

_Dr. Vladmir- Thanks!_

_Draco Lucis- I am glad you enjoyed it. (LOL) I did program it so if I hit [CTRL ' vowel], it makes an accent mark. It already did that on Word, but not on FanFiction or Facebook so I changed it. Yeah! How many High School girls can do that? And as to having her take a break, I was planning on maybe some comments to Solembum, or a conversation with said werecat, to drop hints at where she is._

_- I suppose being like Angela is good? I don't mind being a bit crazy. Life is more interesting that way._

_Witchy Pixie- You were (Word is telling me to change that to 'you was'… Now when would that EVER be correct as a subject-verb phrase) the first person to add this to your favorites and you were the tenth review. Yay!_

_SimplySupreme-Thank you. And your school is already started? That is really early. I don't start until after Labor Day._

_Princess Arya- I'm glad you enjoyed it._


	4. III

**A.N. No one guessed the number (aww…) It was twenty-three. Two reviews before we reach that number, and that person gets the next chapter dedicated to them! **

**By the way, I am not at all offended if you just skip this. School starts next week for me and I have sold myself into slavery to it this year (six AP classes) so updates may be sporadic. But so you know, I am a major procrastinator and what that means for you is that I will probably still be updating pretty often, even when I shouldn't be.**

**HERE IT IS! A nice long chapter, hopefully worth the wait.**

Vanir! My first thought when I woke was of him. After all, it was indirectly my fault that he was injured. I ran to the door, only stopping to quickly dress and tame my mess of dark curly hair. I asked a few elves only to find that he was at his house, being carefully monitored by several healers. After knocking lightly on the door, it was opened by his mother after a few seconds. She looked as if she was going to shut me out but then sighed. "Meira, Vanir has been asking for you since he woke."

"He's awake?" She nodded and led me through their house. The best word to describe the interior of the house was quaint. The house was by no means large or ornate, but I could tell it looked exactly how it was supposed to. I was allowed into Vanir's room by a healer with the caution of not exiting him. "Vanir?" I said quietly. His eyes were closed and his face extremely pale. I cried standing there. Vanir was wrapped in clean white bandages, a testament to the severity of his injury if the healers could not fully heal his wound with magic.

A light smile touched his face and his eyes opened to see me. "Thank you."

I walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. With his frailty his face had lost the magical light that usually surrounded the elf child. "You shouldn't thank me, Vanir. It is my fault you got hurt."

"A branch broke. That is not your fault." He shifted on the mattress and grimaced. "King Evander showed me what you did."

I looked down, embarrassed but pleased he knew about my magic. A foreign presence intruded in my mind. _This is Gredal. I am one of his healers. See if you can get him to eat. He wouldn't for us._

I glanced up to see him watching me. "Vanir." I said, picking up the cup from the table. I smelled it and wrinkled my nose. "They said you have to drink this."

He turned away his face. "I'm not hungry."

I stared at him, at a loss for how to convince him to drink whatever foul beverage the healers wanted him to. In the end, I settled for the most logical way to find out. I asked him. "What do I have to do to get you to drink this?"

He stared at me and then, despite his pain, he grinned. "You have to drink the same."

I grimaced, but walked to the door. Gredal looked questioningly at me and I frowned. "He says he will only eat if I have the same." She looked at my expression, which was probably one of chagrin, and laughed, fetching me a cup with the same. I smelled it and made a face. "What even is this?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "Just drink it. It is good for you. His medicine is what gives it the bad flavor, but it will not hurt you."

I reentered the room with the cup and sat back down on his bed. He stared at the cup and then at me. "I didn't think you were serious."

"A deal is a deal, Vanir."I said with a portentous grin. I raised the cup to my lips and took a tentative sip, causing me to gag. Glaring at him, I downed the cup quickly and set it on the table. "Your turn." I handed him his cup and smiled as he raised it to his lips and held it there. I raised my eyebrows and he took a sip, closing his eyes. Without pausing, he continued to empty the cup. Finally, he handed it back to me. "Do you want some water?" Truthfully, I just wanted an excuse to wash the bad taste from my mouth. Without waiting for an answer, I poured some for both of us from the pitcher on the table.

I stayed until Vanir went to sleep. Then, I quietly crept from his room and closed the door behind me. Gredal smiled at me. "How did it taste?" she asked me too sweetly.

I stuck out my tongue and handed her the two cups before running from the house. I stumbled into a large sea green foreleg and fell back. My mother's dragon snorted her amusement. _Do you never move anywhere slowly?_

_My apologies, Reina. I did not expect to see you here._

_Eliza asked me to bring you to your new teacher once you had seen Vanir. Are you ready?_

My stomach turned in anticipation and I nodded, scrambling up her side to the hollow at the base of her neck. She wasn't wearing a saddle, but that didn't bother me anymore. Anyway, even if I were to fall, I knew she would catch me. She landed a ways outside of Ellesméra at a small cottage with a plume of smoke spiraling up from a wooden chimney. I slid to the ground and Reina lowered her head to look me in the eyes. _Behave yourself and do not look for trouble. Do not offend your teacher and try your best._

I laughed at how similar her words were to what my mother would have said. After so many years of being together, they were alike in many ways. I patted her nose and walked to the door, sudden apprehension causing my knees to tremble. I knocked lightly and waited. Behind me, I heard Reina's wings beat as she flew away.

Light footsteps slowly grew nearer and then the door opened to one of the most bizarre looking elves I had ever seen. I knew immediately I had never met her before I was sure I would have remembered. Her skin glowed, similar to the way an elf child's skin would. Her eyes were violet and her hair silvery lavender. I suddenly realized I was staring and raised two fingers to my lips. "Atra esterni ono thelduin."

"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, Meira. My name is Gwendolyn and I am going to teach you how to control magic."

I stood in the entryway without speaking and waited for the strange elf to let me in. Finally, –Probably about two minutes later, patience has never been my strong suit.– I could not help myself. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Her eyes glinted. "Yes."

I waited, but she did not make any move to let me in or say anything else. She simply watched me. "Will you let me in?" I questioned.

"Yes." She answered, openly smiling now. I was getting frustrated. What was her problem? I stared right back at her, wondering what she was waiting for. I decided to try again.

"Can we go in now?"

She considered me for a minute and then she nodded. "Not elegantly phrased, but I guess it is a start." She stood aside and let me in. "You should have asked 'May I come in?' or even 'Shall we go in?' Either would have been acceptable. Now, tell me, what have you learned?"

What had I learned? Mainly that my new teacher was eccentric to use a polite term, but I could not tell her that. "I should ask the right questions?" I ventured.

"It that an answer or a question?"

"I should ask the right questions." I answered, smiling.

"Good. When Evander asked who wished to teach you magic, I volunteered. I volunteered not because I am the strongest or the most capable, but because, in my not so humble opinion, I understand magic the best of the elves. While one cannot be taught strength, knowledge can shared. And, though I cannot teach understanding, I can help bring you to that point."

She fell silent again, but this time I knew what she was waiting for. I thought for a minute. "What will you be teaching me?"

"Magic." She smiled.

I tried not to look too exasperated and thought carefully. "What is the first thing I will learn?"

"Much better. You must learn to ask the right questions. Once you learn that skill, problems will unfold themselves before you. It is difficult to see the finish from the start, but if instead of searching for the close you search for the path, you will find the end in time." She suddenly looked up and seemed surprised to find me staring at her. "You asked what you will learn first. That is for you to find out on your own, but we will begin your lesson. Come."

I followed her curiously. Usually elves bored me, but she held my attention completely. It was twenty minutes before they stopped before a small pool at the base of a tall but thin waterfall. It was quiet. The trees reached high into the sky. I was content to follow. I had seen only a miniscule portion of the forest, and in it I had already stumbled upon amazing things. Exploring, looking for new sights, was one of my favorite things to do.

"I often find that magic is easier reached when one is apart from the distractions of civilization. This is where I practice magic and train my students."

"Who else besides me have you taught, ebrithil?"

"No need for that, Meira. I find the master-student relationship uncomfortable. You may call me Gwendolyn." She sat cross legged on the ground and I copied her. "To answer your question, I have taught many at some point in their life. Often, it is I who is chosen to awaken the human riders to their potential for magic. I also taught Evander himself."

I sat quietly, cataloging the information into my mind and waited for the lesson to begin. "Now, tell me, Meira, do you like puzzles?"

What did that have to do with magic? "Yes." I was seriously beginning to doubt the sanity of my new teacher, but if she had taught Evander and the riders… And she was my teacher. She knew what she was going to teach me and while I didn't, I knew it was not my place to judge her lesson.

She smiled and picked up a stick and drew nine dots in the form of a square on the ground and handed me the stick. "Now connect the dots with four straight, connected lines."

I stared at the dots for a second and then held the stick an inch above the dirt, tracing patterns in the air, trying to find the solution. I glared at the dots for a while and then a suspicion grew in my mind. I handed her the stick. "It isn't possible. Is it?"

She placed the stick back in my hand. "It is quite possible. Look again."

I stared at the dots for almost ten minutes, my mind going over the same wrong solutions many times. Finally, I saw it. I placed the stick on the ground and drew a line diagonally through three dots and then followed one of the sides of the box, allowing the stick to go out of the boundaries. I turned again, cutting through the middle and then made my last line, making a sort of arrow. "There." I said, proud of myself.

"Good job. It took you less time than most to think of that." She erased it with her hand and drew the dots again. "It was difficult for you to solve and yet the problem is simple. That is because our minds create rules that do not exist. You probably saw the nine dots as a box and assumed that you had to stay inside the lines, but in this case, if you'll excuse my pun, you had to think outside the box." She handed me back the stick and smiled. "Now draw _one _straight line connecting all nine dots."

"One?" I asked doubtfully.

"Yes."

I gave up after half an hour and asked her to show me the solution if one exited. She only smiled. "I will not tell you the answer. One of the easiest ways to smother imagination is to give answers out freely. I have never understood this." She paused. "Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand."

I thought about that for a while. "Why are you teaching me this?"

"Good question." She smiled. "Magic cannot be seen, heard, or touched. Because of this, many cannot understand it. Think of it like this. Magic is a forest. To gain any benefit from it, you need to know what it is like, how it can help you. To discover this, you explore the forest. But you are afraid of venturing into the forest or you do not even think of it because you follow the path you have walked before. When you do that, you only get to know a tiny portion of what exists. In the same way, your mind tries to follow well known channels when you study magic and even the most powerful spellcasters sometimes only scratch the surface. This is why I tell you this." She stood. "That will be your first lesson. Can you find your own way back?"

"Yes. I believe so." I walked away through the woods toward Ellesméra and my house, contemplating the puzzle of the nine dots until I became frustrated enough that I shoved it to the back of my mind.

–I still miss Gwendolyn. She probably believes me dead. I, being human, becoming lost in the fall. Yes, no doubt she does. And she taught me everything in that time. Oddly enough, I even miss those puzzles. No matter how much I hated them at the time.–

Vanir was better within the week, and Gwendolyn had told me she would contact me when the next lesson was. I was lying on the ground outside our tree house with my chin in my hand, staring at the nine dots I had drawn on the ground. My father walked over and looked at me for a minute before chuckling softly to himself. My head snapped up. "What?" I demanded.

"Nothing." He smiled. "I just can't believe anyone could manage to silence you. I don't think you have spoken a word in the last hour, but that is not why I came. Dinner is ready."

Sighing, I stood. I followed my father and took one glance back at the dots to find I had stepped on them, erasing them from the earth. I spun back suddenly and laughed as I stared at the boot print. No doubt my father in that moment believed I was a few bees short of a hive to use a euphemism. Alright. I was sure, in that moment, he thought I had lost it.

"Meira… what?"

"Look!" I exclaimed, pointing at the boot print. "I stepped on the dots!"

My father truly looked concerned then. "Why don't we go inside? We can eat and then you can…" His words broke off as there was a loud pop and a piece of paper floated to the ground.

I picked it up and read it to myself. _Congratulations. I set a spell to alert me when you had solved the puzzle. I have to admit I am a bit surprised you figured it out. I will expect you tomorrow afternoon when the sun is highest at my house. Do not be late. Gwendolyn._

I smiled and saw my father watching me. "I figured out my teacher's assignment." I explained calmly. "See, I had to draw nine dots and then cover them using only one straight line. When I stepped on them." I brushed away the dots I had made. "There was no specification for the width of the line."

He laughed and held out his hand. "Let's go eat."

I smiled and followed. Our table had been sung from a pine outside the house so that the dragons could be by us while we ate. My parents had made it and it was simple but elegant. I sat as my mother carried out the last of the food. We all put some onto our plates. It was one of my favorite meals. My mother had made my favorite. A dish made of seasoned eggs and dark bread. The queen had often insisted we have meals our meals brought to us, but every time my mother politely declined. It was not a burden, but a pleasure she claimed to feed the family.

"Meira, Vanir's mother stopped by and she said that she would prefer if you avoided her son. He knew you for two days. The first day, he came back shivering and drenched, and the second he almost died."

I sighed. "No. I will not stay away from him. He is the only person in Ellesméra within twenty years of my age. The next closest is Faolin and he is thirty one years older than me. If he was a human, he would already be a middle aged man."

"Oromis has two young pupils. Human."

"It has been made very clear by Oromis and Islanzadí that I am not to interfere in any way with the training of the new riders."

"Vanir's mother has reasonable concerns."

"Both of those were accidents."

"Exactly. But that doesn't change what happened. Do you see? What if he dies on account of an accident? He almost has already."

I swallowed a piece of my bread. "It won't happen." I argued. "Why don't you let him decide? He is old enough to decide for himself."

My mother opened her mouth again. _Eliza. _The sea green dragon's voice was amused. _When have you ever managed to change her mind on anything? And what would make this time different? Just keep the peace. _She sighed and continued her meal, her brown hair obscuring her face, but I thought she looked annoyed.

My father only seemed amused. "What did that note that appeared say, Meira?" He asked, wishing to change the subject.

I jumped on it. "My next lesson is tomorrow."

"Gwendolyn is quite a remarkable elf. She has contributed more to what is known about magic than any other person. You are lucky to be taught by her."

_She is incredible._ Vanilor agreed. _But a bit peculiar at times. But most elves are it seems._

I nodded my agreement and took one last bite of my dinner, excusing myself to go and study the language of humans. My parents had taught me some, but not as much as I would need to know to communicate. It was strange that I would not know my race's language, but sometimes the world was like that. Strange.

Someday I was going to leave Du Weldenvarden. I wanted to know what life was like outside the calm steady flow of life that passed in the trees. I felt like I was missing something.

The next morning, I met Vanir at his door and we walked into the city as his mother scowled at my back. "Don't mind her." Vanir mumbled. "She is just afraid I will get hurt again."

I looked at the elf out of the corner of my eye, trying to assess his condition. It had been four days now and his chest was still wrapped tightly in white bandages. He walked with a slight limp as well, but the glow had returned to his skin and even with the limp, he exuded grace and the limp became not a flaw, but a peculiarity.

I fought down a bit of jealousy. I was possibly the only human that had been born in Ellesméra and of course it was I. I did not have the luck to be an elf. They were obviously the superior race. I was not graceful. I was not yet powerful. And I was not immortal. Sometimes it was a struggle not to be bitter. After fourteen years, I had yet to meet a mortal being such as myself.

I walked beside my friend, but he was strangely quiet. Every so often he spoke. He offered to help me learn the sword. It was his gift, he had explained. And he knew that swordplay would be the thing he would devote his life to. To learn and improve. And later to teach. I agreed and we continued our walk.

A bit before noon, I walked him back to his house and jogged to my teacher's home. She was outside in a small garden with lots of tomatoes at various stages of ripening. She shielded her eyes and glanced up at the sky. "Perfectly on time." She drew nine dots. "What was your solution?"

I obliterated them with my boot and grinned. "Widen the line."

"Good. There are quite a few ways to solve that one. Yours is one of the better ones."

"What are the others?"

"You may search for them if you truly wish to know." I nodded. I had not hoped she would answer my question.

She led me to a table with an assortment of everyday items. "Use magic."

I looked at her. "What do you wish me to do?"

"Whatever pleases you. Use your imagination."

I stared at the table, observing the items. There were several pens and an inkwell. A glass of water. A piece of paper. A rock. A stick. A gathering basket. Food. I tried to decide what I would do. It was then I realized I didn't even know how to use magic, only that I could. I made up my mind. I concentrated and felt something that seemed alien to me. I grasped at it and found magic. Turning to the table, I forced open the inkwell and dipped the pen, writing my name on the piece of paper. Then I walked over to examine my work.

The handwriting was sloppy, but not bad. I looked to Gwendolyn. "How did I do?"

She was gazing at me with an uncomfortable intensity. "Meira, You did not use words to guide the magic."

I looked at her. "Isn't that okay? I was thinking as I realized that using words was like thinking in a box so I did something different."

"It's just… Most spellcasters are not taught that method until they have had years of practice. It is extremely dangerous."

"How is it different?"

"Without words to guide it, magic can be twisted by the smallest whim. You could kill someone by looking at them. You should use words."

I was pretty sure my mouth was open. "I will use words next time." I assured her.

"Still, I will expect great things from you if this is only the beginning." For the next hour, Gwendolyn set me to doing menial tasks with magic while she observed, occasionally asking a question. After an hour, she went inside and came back out with a complicated piece of intertwined metal. "This is a tavern puzzle. They were invented by humans, but elves enjoy them too. The ones we make are more difficult. I made this one here. Your goal is to remove that ring from the chains. Take care to remember how you remove it for the second part is putting it back together. Good luck."

Dismissed, I walked into the woods and sat against the tree, fumbling with the puzzle as I memorized what it looked like and wondered how to take off the ring. I didn't have a care in the world.

–Eventually my peace would end. I would be thrown into a foreign world where everything was strange and confusing, but at that time, nothing could bother me.–

**Well, I enjoyed writing this. What did you think? Good? Bad? Did anyone catch the Einstein quote in the chapter? There will be a bit of a time jump to next chapter and more action adventure stuff will be coming. Any suggestions on writing more like Angela are appreciated. I do not feel I have captured her essence yet. Please review this. Even if you only say one word. Please?**


	5. IV

**A.N. Guess how long I spent cleaning my room and closet yesterday. How long? Half an hour? Two hours? Nope. It took six hours. Six. Long. Hours. And it isn't done yet. I even found a piece of homework in my closet from the first grade. Maybe that is a hint that I shouldn't let so many years pass without cleaning my closet. **

**Anyway, I thought this story needed a push. This chapter was longer than expected and covered less than I had hoped, but the next chapter should really set things off. Tip over the first domino, if ya know what I mean.**

**Oh, awesome. did you know that Google Chrome spell checks anything you type on FanFiction? Reviews. Documents. Everything. **

**Enjoy and don't forget to review. **

–I am being told by a particularly rude werecat that if I continue to be sentimental and relate the events of my childhood, this story will never get anywhere. The pest is completely insensate, but I have to agree, however grudgingly, that I should move on. There is one more thing, nevertheless, that must be told before I relate my adventures in the real world. The Agaetí Blödhren. –

Nine years had passed since I met Vanir, and in that short time, we had become the closest of friends. We had spent every waking moment together, and we had become the two most notorious people in Ellesméra. He had taught me swordplay. And in return for his teaching, I had taught him the simple thing that elves seem to lack, the ability to enjoy themselves and be free. Together we had made it rain whenever Islanzadí stepped outside. Together she had punished us by forcing us to dig a hole, two feet deep by only moving one grain of dirt at a time. Together we had turned Vanilor pink. Together we had gotten into more trouble than anyone ever had before in elven history

But in that time, I also discovered what it felt like to be alone. I was surrounded by people and was close to many. Vanir was my best friend. Gwendolyn had, through numerous lessons and trips, become a close companion and role model. I had my parents also, but I was alone. I was human. I was mortal. And I was alone. It was difficult to stay happy sometimes. I was growing up, but no one else aged. Vanir seemed to, but at eighteen he too seemed to become trapped in time. And I felt out of place. I knew eventually I would have to leave.

The year before the Agaetí Blödhren, the queen became pregnant with the heir. If I learned anything during that time, it was that playing pranks on the already irritable elf queen while she was pregnant was a good way to get myself killed. Later in the year, a small child with emerald colored eyes and raven black hair was born and all the elves rejoiced and celebrated. She was named Arya.

In my opinion, the newborn was a nuisance. She screamed constantly and kept half the city from sleeping for the first few weeks. The elves believed children were a great blessing, but I was not so convinced. If that baby was anything to judge by, I never wanted children.

And so was the state of Ellesméra thirteen months before the Blood-Oath Celebration.

Vanir had gone to Osilon for a couple of weeks to visit a cousin he had met several years back. She was one of the only elves I had seen whose sword fighting was at a level comparable to my friend's, even at his young age. I didn't begrudge him his time with family and friends, but I was at an all-time low in my relation with the queen, and my boredom was pushing me to scheme, a bad thing as I had yet to learn the good sense to restrain myself.

I found myself walking down the now familiar path to the house of my mentor and friend. When I knocked, the door opened immediately and Gwendolyn smiled at me. She waited for me to ask a question.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" I asked politely.

"Yes."

I smiled. "Then let's go. I need to get out of the city and I perfected that last spell you set me to learn."

"Show me."

I slipped my golden necklace off my neck and paused to gather my thoughts. "Kuldr." A ghostly replication of my necklace appeared beside it and she nodded.

"Excellent."

I replaced the necklace and looked up. "Are you ready or do you need some time."

"I'm afraid I am busy, Meira. I cannot go for a walk with you today."

"But you just said… Oh. I asked if you would like to."

She nodded.

"What is it that has you so busy?"

"I am working on my piece for the Agaetí Blödhren."

I stared at her. "Gwendolyn, it is over a year away still." I complained.

"Yes, only a year is left. Time has really gotten away from me. I spent five years on my last one, and the elves will expect this to be superior." She sighed. "Have you given any thought as to what you are going to do? They will not be happy if your work isn't quality."

"I will make a plan soon. Are you sure you can't spare any time for a walk?"

"Not today. Perhaps soon. After your next lesson?"

I sighed and nodded. Everyone was shunning me. I began to walk back toward Ellesméra before turning around. I could still go for a walk alone.

It was cool out, not uncomfortably, but enough to notice. I decided to make my own path out of boredom, too see new things. As I walked, I thought about what I would present for the celebration. Any form of writing or poetry was out of the question. I was only adequate, but there were elves who were masters at poetry. Neither could I paint. As I went through my options in my head, namely running away to avoid having to present anything, I absently peeled the bark off a dead stick.

Not looking up, I could sense that my path was blocked. I glanced ahead to see one of the massive trees of Du Weldenvarden had fallen. I paused to stare. Never before had I seen one of the mammoths fall. They were supported by magic. I ran up and looked at the tree. A quick spell told me the tree was sound, healthy, but had fallen a month or so back.

That it was healthy made me even more curious. What had caused it? I began to walk in the direction of the base. Eventually I reached it and saw what had happened. A river had cut a small canyon alongside the tree, weakening the roots on that side. Off balanced, the tree had fallen. I was pleased with myself for coming up with a reason when I had an idea. I resolved to come back the next day.

I sprinted home, thinking of the hobby I had had years ago. _Vanilor! _I yelled at the dragon just as he was about to take off. He folded his wings and looked at me. _I need a favor._

_Yes?_

_I need several fairths of you. It's for my piece for the Blood-Oath Celebration._

He stared at me for a minute. _May I ask what you are doing?_

I grinned. _You will find out in a year._

_I see._ He snorted. _So someone has finally decided to try being responsible for once. Do what you wish._

I ran into our house and came back out with some blank slates. I stared at him for a while as he stared back. _Crouch like you are about to take off. _He complied and I looked at him before sighing and shaking my head. _Not right. Just stand normally. No, that's not good either._

Vanilor rolled his eyes, a trick I had taught him that I now regretted as he constantly used it to mock me. _How about this? _Vanilor stood straight and bent his neck slightly toward the right. He lifted his left front leg slightly as if he were about to take a step and curled his tail.

He looked exactly as a dragon should. Proud. Regal. Magnificent. I giggled. _Perfect. _I made fairths of him from every angle, including one from the top of our tree house.

"What in the world is going on here?" My father asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and amusement as he saw his dragon posing for me as I laughed and made fairths.

_Are you done? _He asked me. I nodded. Vanilor shook himself and blew a puff of smoke from his nostrils. He turned to his rider. _One of Meira's many whims. She claims it has something to do with her piece for the Agaetí Bl__ödhren._

"You are already thinking of that?"

"Gwendolyn said I should. And I have been bored."

"So long as you are not bothering the elves."

I retired to my room early with a block of wood and a knife. My father made some sarcastic comment and my mother genuinely asked if I was feeling alright. I ignored them both and sat on my bed, whittling the block of wood down to match the fairths.

It went perfectly, a miniscule representation of the violet dragon. Well, it went perfectly until I sneezed and decapitated the figurine. I made another the next morning and cast a spell to protect it from damage, slipping it under my pillow to hide it.

I reached my log and stared at it, glad I had a year. With magic, I cut through the hard wood and rolled it from the rest of the tree. After that, I had to rest for almost ten minutes. I stole some energy from the surrounding trees, a useful trick I had discovered, and looked at the giant log. I technically wasn't supposed to use magic to make my piece, but I decided it didn't really count and got rid of all the bark.

I used my sword as an axe, praying with all my being that for some reason Rhunon wouldn't come walking into the clearing and see the way I was 'disrespecting' my weapon. It was magically protected. Still, if she had seen me, I wouldn't have lived to see the Blood-Oath Celebration.

–Alright, I said a while ago that one of the only things that scares me is the elf queen. An angry Rhunon is another.–

All I managed the first day was to hack the block of wood into a shape somewhat closer to the shape of a dragon, but still not close. My arms ached, my head hurt, my hands were blistered, and I was exhausted and sweating. I hardly noticed when Gwendolyn was sitting on her porch when I walked past.

"Meira?" I wearily turned and looked up at her. "What…? You look as if you have been attacked."

"No. Just starting what I am going to show at the celebration as you suggested."

She smiled. "Do I get a hint?"

"I will trade you a hint for a hint. Otherwise, no."

"My project has to do with magic. I have made a new discovery."

I hadn't expected more than that in the way of a clue, but really, I would have guessed her piece was something like that. I decided to be as cryptic. "Well mine has to do with wood. I'm making something." She looked at me for a few seconds and then we both started laughing.

"Yours has to do with wood. And sweat. And blood." She shook her head. "Waise hael." My skinned knees and elbow healed immediately. "Did you fall out of a tree again?" She asked with a teasing smile. Once I had missed a lesson because I had fallen and broken my leg. I hadn't learned healing yet and the whole deal was rather embarrassing.

"Not far off from it." I muttered. I had taken an especially vicious chop at the log and lost my balance. With how thick the log was, I was lucky I had not tumbled to the ground.

She shot me an amused look and shook her head.

A week passed without me noticing I was so involved in my carving. It still looked like a lump of wood, but at least it had the right shape. There was a definite head and tail. I was taking care not to decapitate this one as I had the miniature. I had set spells to prevent rotting and warping, and every night before I left I set a spell to protect it from damage.

–I have never put in so much work as I did on that statue, but even now I don't regret it. I want to take a break, but Solembum won't let me until I finish the Blood-Oath Celebration. Stupid cat. Oops, I may have said that aloud. Tip: do not upset a werecat. He is currently threatening me that he knows my secrets and is not sworn that he will not tell them. I will have to finish this just to appease him then. No excuses. But really, my hand is cramping up and I'm not even the one writing! Alright. I'll continue. –

I was woken up earlier than normal the next morning by a pounding on my door. I opened the door to find Vanir, grinning like mad. He stepped forward and embraced me. "It's good to see you."

I smiled and hugged him back. "And I didn't get into any trouble while you were gone."

He raised his eyebrows. "What did you spend your time doing?"

I punched him in the shoulder. "I can be good."

"Yeah right. What did you do?"

"Started my project for the Agaetí Blödhren. Have you given any thought as to what you are going to do?"

"I have ideas."

I laughed, wondering what it was he would present, but didn't ask because I knew he would demand as many clues from me as he gave, and I wanted mine to be a surprise.

The next few months, I was busier than I had ever been in my life. I spent all my time studying under Gwendolyn, with Vanir, or working on my carving. Vanir pestered me constantly about what it was that I was making until when I would leave my work I cast a spell to make it invisible in case he followed.

It only followed that I had become extremely tired. I needed something to do for fun, something to take my mind off everything. It only followed that the next day I had come up with a plan.

Of course, in the middle of the night I found myself outside Vanir's house. _Vanir?_

His mind briefly brushed mine and I felt sleepy annoyance. _What time even is it, Meira? And why did you feel the need to wake me up?_

Despite the fact that I knew he couldn't see me, I crossed my arms across my chest and frowned. _When did you become a lazy bore? _He did not deign to give a reply to that. I sighed. _If you must know, I have a prank that will beat all the ones we have done before._

I smiled. He was curious. Five minutes later, he was at the door, completely dressed. "I am amazed you have not grown out of this yet, Meira."

"You enjoy it too."

No reply. Then, "What are the chances that this is going to make Islanzadí try to kill us?"

My eyes were sparkling. "Fairly high. Here's what we are going to do." I whispered my plan in his ear and he frowned.

"Are you sure that is going to work?"

"It should. I tested it."

We were silent as we approached the building where the elven nobility was sleeping. I crept up to the door and whispered in the ancient language. The door immediately sealed. I tested it, trying to open it, but it was as solid as if I was pulling on a wall. Laughing quietly to myself, I continued around, sealing every door and window of the building. I sealed the last window and grinned.

Vanir looked at me. "Um, Meira, there are quite a few elves in there. One of them will be able to overpower your spell."

"Not so." I smiled. "The spell it not drawing on my energy but that of ten of these trees. Half of the elves in Ellesméra could not hope to overpower that spell. Eventually they will break it, but it will take a while." I found myself yawning. "I am going to get some sleep. See you in the morning."

I woke to a hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes shot opened only to fall on Vanir. I bit his hand and he released me, swearing under his breath. "What was that for?"

"I don't appreciate being woken that way, Vanir. "Why are you here? And how did you find me?" I sat up and stretched. Once I was up, I was up. No sleeping in today. I was behind our house in a good smelling bush.

"I woke you that way so you didn't make any noise. And I found you because you weren't blocking your mind."

"I was sleeping."

"Whatever. If you are done snapping at me, I could warn you that everyone is awake and furious. In minutes they will be searching for you to undo the spell. Unless you would rather be sleeping when Islanzadí gets out."

My eyes went wide and I shook my head. "I think maybe it is better if I go into the woods for a while. Just in case."

He nodded. "Where will you go?"

"To work on my project. Only four months to the celebration. I will meet you at the giant tree, the one you fell out of, two hours after noon." Casting a spell to make myself invisible, I sprinted off into the forest and didn't pause until I reached my wooden dragon. I leapt to the hollow behind its shoulders and caught my breath there.

In one of my many trips to the glade where I was making my piece, I had decided that my dragon needed a name. I talked to it constantly as I worked. Well, really I talked to myself, but it felt a lot less strange directing my words at the massive carving. I had named him Skogrdýr, literally wood-beast. Not extremely creative, but I didn't really feel that a hunk of wood would take offense at the name.

Well, if I was going to be there, I might as well get some work done. I stepped back to examine the dragon. The last week I had devoted to carving his tail. I was dreading doing the legs for fear of the whole thing tipping. So I walked over to his head.

"Skogrdýr, would you like a face?" The great wooden lout simply stood there. I crossed my arms and sighed. "I suppose you would, wouldn't you. You're not very pretty yet, you know." It simply stood there. I brought over my ladder I had formed from magic and climbed to the block of wood that was to become the head. I had already carved two long curved horns on the dragon. Vanilor's were straight, but I did not want the dragon to be him, merely a representation on the species.

With a steady hand, I set the edge of the knife on the wood and carved off a strip that curled as it separated from the main block. I smiled as it fell away and continued to work.

I had missed breakfast, and it was near lunch time, but I did not dare go back into Ellesméra so I found some mint leaves to chew and take the edge off my hunger. I knew eventually the queen would cool off. Either that or her mate would convince her to not be baited by a human. Evander was one of the few elves who actually appreciated my pranks. He told me once that they lightened the mood and broke the monotony of Du Weldenvarden. I had been amazed when he had told me that. Even the king of the elves grew bored of the never-ending world of Du Weldenvarden.

My knife removed another piece of the soft pine. With a start, I noticed the sun was a bit past its peak and I was supposed to meet Vanir for an update on my safety.

Vanir was leaning against the tree when I finally arrived. "Hey."

He looked up. "You have wood chips in your hair." Without waiting for a reply, he walked over and picked several pieces of wood from my hair and put them on the ground.

"Thanks." I mumbled, embarrassed, but I was thankful he didn't seem to notice.

"The entire royal house besides Evander is fuming. Evander thinks the whole matter is amusing. He pointed out that over thirty elves just got beaten by a young human woman. Meira, it took _Gwendolyn _two hours to reverse your spell. They had to send for her because no one else could figure it out. And the whole time they were locked in there, little Arya was crying because she wanted to go outside. Drove everyone crazy."

I laughed and could not help smiling. At the same time, I was immensely proud of myself. Not only had I pulled off an amazing trick, I had stumped Gwendolyn in magic for two hours.

"I think it is probably best if you lie low for a day or so. Let them be vexed without you there. I don't think you will be punished though. To punish you would be admitting you bested them. Likely they will not mention it. I have to go. I promised my mother I would help her clean the house today." He looked back. "Oh, I almost forgot." He handed me a basket and disappeared down the path.

I lifted the cloth on the basket and looked. In the basket was a fresh loaf of herbed bread, some fruit, and several of my favorite sweetcakes along with a small flask of faelnirv. I smiled and walked back to Skogrdýr, eating a piece of the fruit.

Vanir was right. A day later, when I returned to Ellesméra, I was given the cold shoulder by the elves I had pranked, but not one brought it up. When I passed, a small smile graced the king's face and he nodded to me. Gwendolyn congratulated me on my magic, but chastised me upon the use of the same magic. But her reprimand was halfhearted and she seemed to be having trouble not smiling or laughing. Long ago she had told me that she though I only got away with all my tomfoolery because I was a human and now I began to see she was right. I was not one of the queen's subjects. To the elves, I was still a mere child. And I was seen as inferior. Because of this, I was tolerated.

I threw myself headlong into my work again until suddenly, two weeks before the Blood-Oath Celebration, I realized that there was no more to be done with my knife. Each scale had been intricately carved and smoothed. But Skogrdýr was not to my liking. It seemed dull, especially the eyes. After two days of thinking, I burnt a pile of wood and took the charcoal. I began to accent the sculpture, giving it more life.

The process took three days, but when I finished, there was nothing I wanted more than for the ceremony to come so that I could present it before the elves. I cast final spells on it, sealing it from every kind of damage, and waited impatiently for the final days to come to a close.

–Hmm. That took a bit longer than I expected to tell. I suppose we can take a break and I will tell part two afterwards. What do you think, Solembum? No, I am not being lazy. And I am aware of the definition of soon. You will find out what happens. Soon. –

**To me that seemed as if got really boring and drawn out toward the end, but I am not sure what to remove so I left it as it is. Also did not expect this to come out so long. I better get a good amount of reviews for this one. By the way, if anyone has any ideas or suggestions that would make for good story fodder, I'm in. Random little things that would provide humor or favorite quotes I could try and base a chapter off of. **

**Anyway, please review. If I get a good number of reviews I will try to update this before my school starts on Wednesday, otherwise it might be a week or so. If you don't know what to write, just tell me your favorite Pokémon (mine is Kingdra.) **

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	6. V

**A.N. I'll admit this chapter is written a bit differently stylistically. I didn't feel the amusing, childish way I have been structuring the other chapters fit the Agaetí Blodhren very well. I would appreciate advice on what you think. Don't be afraid to tell me if you hate it. I still think this seems like Angela, but it is more serious. (Don't worry, though. The batty and witty herbalist will return.) Oh, and thanks for all the reviews. Those are what made this happen so fast.**

I couldn't believe the complete change that came over the elves in the days leading up to the Agaetí Blodhren. The entire city bustled with activity and the elves held cheerful and light conversations as the forest was decorated in the most magnificent manner. Lanterns were hung in the massive pine trees, and the Menoa tree itself glistened from the colored lanterns that burned at the tip of every branch, exuding the smells of flowers and rain, the smells of spring and life. Even the most serene and cold elves could be seen with a smile as the preparations were made. Elves sung to the forest day and night in preparation until a new blanket of flowers and green grass sprouted everywhere. Olive green vines crawled up the bark of the trees with bell-like pink flowers of which the fragrance I still cannot describe, but which I remember to this day. Ellesméra was bursting at the seams from the constant arrival of elves from everywhere, come to participate in the celebration., and the anticipation grew with every hour.

On the eve of the celebration, it seemed the air was full of the laughter of the elves, reverberating with what sounded of bells and birdsong, weaving together in a wild and free melody. Vanir and I found ourselves standing in a crowd of elves at the base of the magnificent Menoa tree. A hush fell over the elves, all sound died and every eye fixed on the king. King Evander raised his arm toward the moon, his skin glistening in the silvery light. A pure white orb of light accrued around his hand until it seemed to be glowing. Evander withdrew his hand, holding the orb near his chest and turned to the Menoa tree. He lifted the light above his head and placed it in a hollow in the bark. The light grew and began to pulse.

Suddenly the elves broke out in noise that hurt my human ears. They laughed and sang and danced. Tables seemed almost to appear from nowhere. Old, ornate, tiered tables that were laden with the most elaborate dished I had ever seen. Even more amazing was that they never seemed to empty though no one was refilling them.

Almost without me noticing, a strange song began to swell. It was made of many parts, many songs, many voices, but all fit together perfectly, weaving a complex spell with multifarious parts. I found myself joining into the songs, even the ones I did not know, influenced by the magical atmosphere. Laughing, Vanir held out his hand and I took it, only to be swept into a wild and frenzied dance. I could not say how long we danced, but the magic prevented me from tiring. At some point I found myself passed from partner to partner. I saw faces I did not recognize as well as ones I knew well.

Elves began to display the wonders they had produced for the celebration. There were great poems and puzzles and pieces of art that seemed impossible. I saw magic the likes of I had never seen before and likely never will again. At some point I recognized Vanir step up and recite a long and beautiful poem about joy. As he finished, his eyes sought me out and I grinned at him before I became lost again in the revels. I became aware it was nearing my turn and flitted through the crowd to where a section was fenced off, my project standing invisible in the middle.

–Sorry to interrupt, but I feel the need to say that I was an utter blockhead in one way regarding my project. How I expected that I, a human _girl_, would be able to move an enormous wooden sculpture still astounds me to this day. I required the help of Gwendolyn to carry my project to the clearing the morning before the Agaetí Blodhren.–

I stood before the elves as they continued in their revels around me. I frowned and narrowed my eyes. I _would _get the attention I deserved. I whispered a word and there was a flash like lightning and then another. The elves looked around and their eyes fell upon me. I climbed onto a root to get higher and almost all the eyes were on me now. "Behold!" I cried and formed a sheet of fog around my project, dropping the invisibility spell. "Skogrdýr!" The pillar of mist dropped to the ground and dissipated among the elves, revealing my carved dragon which seemed almost real by the lanterns' light.

There were startled exclamations which tuned to shouts of delight as they saw my piece. I smiled and leapt down from the root. Immediately I was mobbed by elves, commending me for my work. A tall handsome elf caught my hand and I was drawn once again into the chaotic dance.

All the elves gathered to see the creations of the king and queen. The crowd was so large, I could not see and then Vanir caught my hand. "I'll race you to the first branch." Vanir said as he began to climb a tree. Without thinking, I was following him.

"No fair." I complained. "You got a head start."

"Shh." He said, looking down at Islanzadí, who was standing before the elves.

"Don't shush me!" I exclaimed quietly only for him to completely ignore me. The queen of the elves recited a poem that contained only five lines, but the piece was one of the most beautiful I had yet heard. Evander stood next and read a history of the last century he had written in verse. The elves continued the celebration, but Vanir and I remained on the branch, watching the revelry from above, joining instead into the song as we watched the other wonders presented.

Vanilor and my father broke tradition and went up together, delivering a two part poem which was relayed to the minds of all simultaneously and which was hard to follow by words, but the meaning, the feeling, conveying the depth of the rider-bond was terrific. Reina presented a metal statue of the Menoa tree and my mother sang a beautiful song she had written. She was immediately forced to repeat the song several times until the elves picked it up and it joined the resounding chorus of the forest.

I had no real sense of the passing time. Everything seemed a blur, and if asked later, I could tell you every detail of the festival, but not in order. It was as if time had become irrelevant, as if it was nonexistent. I know not how long I remained in that tree with Vainir, but we were still there when Gwendolyn took t command of the attention. Without speaking, she raised her hands and a sharp crack cut through the air, and then there was swirling light and electricity around her. A plain glass ball stood on a stand in front of her. Gwendolyn's face took on a look of extreme concentration. She raised a hand and the energy swirled around it.

She remained that way for a long while before pointing at the glass orb. It seemed to explode in light and color and there was a sound like thunder, but when my eyes had recovered from the blinding light, the ball was unblemished. It looked exactly the same as before, and then there was a flicker within the glass, a dim shadow which grew to the outside and then suddenly became the image of a city, clear and bright. Gwendolyn smiled triumphantly and held the orb up to the light.

Elves fought for a closer look and she seemed to delight in showing it to them. I climbed down the tree and eventually made my way to my friend and teacher. "What is it?" I asked in awe as I touched the surface of the glass ball. I drew my hand back surprised. "It's hot!"

She laughed at me. "Of course it is hot; it gets its energy from heat."

"But what is it?" I asked, looking closer at the image. You could see people moving around in it and the occasional bird.

"I have not named it yet. What you see now is Gil'ead." She smiled and bent over the glass ball. "Doru Areaba." She whispered and the picture changed. I stared at it in amazement as it depicted every person and creature there when I was positive there was no way she had seen them before.

I was about to ask her how she had made it when the queen arrived and Gwendolyn met my eyes, and in that look was the command to behave. "It is brilliant." She murmured as she examined the piece. My concentration strayed to the dancing as I watched a graceful strange elf with scales like a snake gliding through the forms with ease.

"Meira." The queen spoke my name and I turned back, realizing it was not the first time she had spoken my name.

"Yes, my queen?"

She eyed me suspiciously at the submissive reply, but didn't ask. "I wish to know if we may keep your carving in one of the gardens of Tialdarí Hall." I grinned and nodded immediately and the queen smiled slightly back at my enthusiasm.

I realized with amazement that the sun was beginning to rise. The celebration had lost some of its feverish energy and the singing and dancing had become more refined. I glanced up to see that the werelight pulsing in the Menoa tree had faded slightly. The sun rose and the forest seemed to wake as if from a dream. I was suddenly tired from going three days without sleep, and many elves were already scattering. The forest floor looked as though it had been trampled as if from a stampede.

Dizzy from the sudden lack of magic, I wandered off. I almost didn't realize the golden dragon flying lower and lower until he was above me. The great dragon crashed to the ground and I sprinted toward it in sudden fear, realizing the dragon was bloodied and had only a stump for his front leg. Even as I reached the dragon, his rider tumbled from his back, unconscious and I barely caught him before he hit the ground.

I lowered the unconscious body of Oromis, the rider who had stayed in Ellesméra while I was a child, to the ground and looked up at the dragon to see him lay his head down on the ground and his eyes closed. I panicked, but luckily retained my good sense. _Help! _I called out toward Ellesméra, the cry piercing and urgent. Knowing someone would respond, I immediately began to do all I could for the pair. Glaedr was badly injured, but his rider seemed worse off. I healed where his skull had been fractured first and then started on the numerous wounds.

A few minutes later, his eyes flickered open slightly and half focused on my face. "The riders have been betrayed." I was pushed away as elves, riders, and dragons surrounded the injured pair. Betrayed by whom? I wondered. Little did I know my life was about to change.

–There we go. All finished.–

**I always thought that Galbatorix would have attempted to seize power at the time of the Agaetí Blodhren. Kialandí was Forsworn and an elf so she would have known about it. And both events happen a hundred years ago. It would be the perfect time for an attack. The elves are out of the picture, occupied, and they were the biggest threat.**

**Anyway, what did you guys think? Did this still sound like Angela or did I lose her voice here? I think I will probably go back to the style I used in the other chapters.**

**School starts tomorrow, so expect less frequent updates.**

**Please review and tell me what you thought.**


	7. VI

**A.N. This chapter is a bit more serious, but don't worry. Soon the bubbly and eccentric witch everyone loves will be back in full. And, as no one cares a about my rather derisory excuses, I will let Angela take over.**

–Solembum seems to think that this tale takes preference over the war. Cats never can seem to grasp the importance of time. I swear sometimes that he sits and stares at the birds for hours. As if the small feathered pests are of any importance during a time of war. He might as well do something useful and keep an eye out for mad rabbits instead of watching the trees. Anyway, let's continue.–

I promptly relayed to the king what Oromis had told me. That he said the riders had been betrayed. The king immediately looked worried and went to Oromis's room, telling me to follow. Normally, I would have resisted the orders, but as I had been trying to see the rider for a day with no success, I trailed behind without speaking for fear he'd change his mind. We were admitted and Gwendolyn looked up from the rider's bedside. She had been chosen because she was one of the better healers in all of Du Weldenvarden and knew methods no one else did.

She glanced up. "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Evander Könungr."

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr, Gwendolyn Svit-kona." He replied. I formally greeted my friend and teacher before Evander continued. "How is he?" The king asked, looking at the pale and gaunt elf that was only a skeleton of what he should have been.

"He will not wake." She stood. "He was obviously tortured by the injuries he bore. He has seizures several times an hour. He is dying." She brought a waterskin to the elf and forced him to drink, the elf choking slightly on the water.

I stepped forward. "Gwendolyn, may I help you?" I asked, glancing at the king who raised his eyebrows at the master spellweaver.

"She _is _my apprentice." Gwendolyn said and then looked at me before turning back to the king. "Oromis is dying. He will die within the week unless I can find some way to heal him mentally. My ideas are exhausted. Meira, you may remain."

I nodded, watching his chest rise and fall weakly. "How is his dragon?"

"Glaedr will allow no one to approach or heal him. Not even the other dragons go near him. He is at the Crags of Tel'naeír."

I stood, immediately knowing where I needed to go. "I can go to Glaedr."

"Meira, no." Gwendolyn said firmly. "That dragon is dangerous. He _killed _an elf woman who insisted on healing him."

I stared her down. One thing I have learned is that if you lose your temper, you have lost the argument. "I insist. You said I can help heal him. And I don't intend on dying."

Evander nodded. "Gwendolyn, at this point, his dragon is our best hope."

"I will not allow the best student I have ever had to be eaten by a hysterical dragon!" She exclaimed. "Out of the question."

The elf king and I simply stared at her for a long time and then the king spoke. "Your best student was a human?" He looked at me with a smile. I smiled back impishly.

"Yes." She harrumphed and cast a small spell over the rider as he moved on the bed.

"I'm still going, Gwendolyn. I won't get eaten." Before she could answer, I shoved open the door and took off running, making myself invisible until I knew I was safe.

The massive golden dragon was not difficult to find. He was in the center of a massive clearing that looked as if it had weathered a forest fire and tornado at the same time. Trees were crushed and knocked over. The ones that still stood were charred. Giant claw marks covered the ground. Throughout the whole place there was the odor of blood. I gagged on it, but stepped into the clearing.

The dragon was on his side, facing away from me and his sides were heaving. "If I was a dragon and my rider was dying, I wouldn't hide in the woods like a newborn fawn. I would do something." I stated to get the dragon's attention. My eyes fell on the broken body of an elf, lying broken on the ground and I swallowed. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I have no control over what comes out of my mouth sometimes.

The dragon leapt to his feet and almost fell as he lost his balance missing a foreleg. His head swung directly in front of mine and he glared at me. He didn't speak for several minutes. "Your breath does not smell very good." I said matter-of-factly and he growled low in his throat, blowing a cloud of smoke at me that caused my eyes to water and set me coughing.

_Tell me why I should not kill you now._

I locked eyes with him, not backing down. "Because I don't want to die. And because you are not a murderer."

He blinked and withdrew his head a bit. _What did you mean about my rider?_

"The elves don't know what is wrong, and his mind is too heavily guarded. You know. You could help your rider, maybe prevent his death, but you hide like a fawn, hoping the danger will go away."

_You are an insulting little pest. _He snapped, but if anything, he did not seem as angry as before.

"I have met others who share the same opinion."

The dragon stared at me with a look of puzzlement and then sank to the ground, exhausted and weak. I stepped forward, ignoring the warning growl until my hand rested on his warm snout. "I have agreed to help your rider. May I heal you to help your rider?"

_How much magic can a puny human such as you do? _He asked disparagingly.

"May I?" I asked over politely, warranting another growl. Despite the growl, he dipped his head slowly. I walked around him and took in his injuries. The missing foreleg was obviously the worst, but I had no idea if it was even possible to replace that. "Waise hael." I caused the skin and muscle to seal together at the end of the stump. The dragon twitched, but didn't comment, eying me warily. I healed one more large gash on his side that looked to be caused by teeth. It had ripped deeply through the muscles in his thigh, and it was a wonder he had been able to stand.

Ignoring my weariness, I continued my healing, drawing from the nearby trees. It took almost an hour to heal the dragon before I couldn't continue, but by then, the injuries that remained were small and insignificant. "Now, we should return to your rider. Come on." I said as he took a step forward and almost collapsed.

The dragon lay back down and whined. I stared at him; I had never heard a dragon make that kind of noise before. "Glaedr, did I miss something?"

_I am a cripple. _He whispered in my mind and I felt an overwhelming pity for the beast.

I looked at the magnificent dragon and the leg that ended it a white stump. Then I walked over to him and put my hand on his side. "Dragons are not meant for the ground anyway. It will not be a disability when you are in the air where you belong. Are you strong enough to fly?"

The dragon stood and threw his head, defying her suggestion of weakness. Then he looked at me. _You may ride me. I owe you some thanks for bringing me to my senses._

I smiled and climbed onto the dragon's back. He wasn't wearing a saddle, but it was a short flight. I guided him to the house. _Glaedr, land slowly. It might be difficult._

I felt a sense of despondent agreement and then he slowly glided to the ground. He landed heavily and hopped forward a few steps, nearly throwing me off. I slid down his good leg to the ground and turned to him. "It was a bit of a rough landing, but that will get better with practice, I am sure." I turned as Evander stepped out of the cabin. I was a bit surprised he was still there, but my surprise was nothing with the look on his face when he saw the dragon behind me.

Glaedr lowered his head and pushed at me. _Is there any way he can be brought out here?_

"I think we could do that." I ran inside and Gwendolyn breathed a sigh of relief as she saw me still in one piece. "Glaedr wants to know if we can move Oromis out there."

"How did you manage to get Glaedr's attention?"

"I insulted him."

"You what?" She asked and then shook her head. "You are a fool. A lucky fool. Help me carry the bed." I heard her mutter 'imprudent child' though I would have sworn she was smiling slightly.

We picked up the bed and carried it outside to where Glaedr had lay down. The dragon sniffed his rider before Oromis convulsed and his face twisted in pain. Glaedr flinched with an echo of his rider's pain and seemed worried. _Help him. _Not really knowing what I was doing, I held the rider down to keep him from hurting himself and smashed my way through the barriers in his mind.

_Glaedr, help me! _I said as the rider subconsciously attacked my mind. The dragon shielded me and I searched for the cause of the rider's illness. It was not difficult to find. A terrible scene of the dragon and rider trying to flee before two female riders flew at them, battering them with attacks as they fled. She watched as they were brought down as Glaedr's leg was torn by a large silver dragon being ridden by an elf woman. The elf was then tortured, mentally and physically as his dragon was beaten by the two younger beasts. Then the elf tried to sever Oromis's connection to magic. She watched as he somehow managed to run to his dragon and get into the air, out flying the smaller dragons because of his massive wingspan. They had not stopped until crashing in front of her.

Meira retreated from the memories and looked down at the elf. Elves were magical creatures. Severing his connection to magic was severing his connection to life. I searched his mind, not knowing what I looked for until I felt something that seemed alien and tried to understand it. I could feel magic, but it was stopped and torn. Not knowing if I was doing the right thing. I whispered several words in the ancient language and gasped at the drain in my strength. It would be too much. Then I felt a rush of energy from the gold dragon and the spell finished.

I examined my work. It was imperfect and crude, but I had managed to reconnect the rider to magic. Even as I saw his eyes move beneath his eyelids, I fainted.

–Yes. I fainted, Solembum. Well, if you had to do that kind of magic you would have to. Really.–

I woke up a minute later and felt my cheeks flaming as Gwendolyn helped me to sit. She brushed my hair from my face. "Are you alright?"

I nodded and, ignoring her protests, stood and stumbled over to the rider. I had decided to leave them with the impression that I had fainted because of the magic, but the truth was that what I had seen in Oromis's mind had disturbed me greatly. Oromis blinked slowly before opening his eyes. "Glaedr?" he questioned with a hoarse voice.

The dragon held his head over his rider and I could tell they were speaking. The rider fell asleep again and Glaedr went to sleep as well, both peacefully.

Evander looked at me with newfound respect. I saw for the first time he was thinking of me more than the irresponsible human who happened to live with the elves and as a sentient, intelligent, and magical being who just happened to be born a human. "How did you do that? What was wrong with him?"

"I saw his memories of what happened." I said, feeling dizzy again as the memories invaded my peace of mind. "He was tortured by two other riders and their dragons." I closed my eyes, fighting memories that did not belong to me. Gwendolyn grabbed my arm and forced me to sit on the ground beside her. "They severed his link to magic. I don't know if he will be able to cast spells again, but I think I fixed it well enough that he will live."

"You look like you're about to faint again. Are you alright?"

I shook my head and, not being able to take any more, began crying. Evander started to say something, but I felt Gwendolyn shake her head. "Evander." She said quietly. "Would you mind fetching Vanir for her?"

"Vanir?" he questioned.

"She is distraught by what she saw. Surely you have noticed how close those two are. He might be able to help her."

I was angry they were talking as if I wasn't there, but couldn't say anything. I don't know how much time passed before I they returned. "Meira?" My friend's voice asked. It was obvious the king had told him nothing. I felt his hand on my back and he took me from my teacher, helping me to my feet. "Come on. Let's walk." I probably wouldn't have been able except that he put his arm around my waist and supported almost all of my weight. Just into the trees, we sat on a log and he kept his arm around me. "What's wrong?"

I met his eyes and he flinched. "I don't think I could talk about it." He was rubbing my back and looked so worried I tried to control my crying if only to get him to stop looking at me like that. "I just can't."

He nodded and didn't ask. I was glad Gwendolyn had sent for him. She was my friend, but she was my teacher first. I had grown up with Vanir, and we knew all of each other's secrets. He was my best friend and he was able to calm me down easily without doing anything.

We sat for awhile on the log, him with his arm around me before he stood and pulled me up by the hand, not letting go once he had. Gwendolyn and Evander both watched as we rejoined the group. When we were still a bit away, I turned to Vanir. "Do they have to stare?"

"You do look pretty terrible." He said with a completely straight face and I elbowed him in the stomach, laughing quietly as he protested my attack. "That was uncalled-for." He complained.

"You so deserved it." I said, wiping my eyes once more.

Gwendolyn smiled as we sat down next to each other. I knew I was being foolish, but I couldn't quite be on my own. Every time I looked at Oromis, I pictured the horrible things they had done to him. In the end, I stood up and went to sit next to Glaedr. He opened one eye and then laid his head next to me. I knew the dragon understood. He had been with me in Oromis's mind when I had seen the memories. My companions, however, looked between me and the golden dragon in surprise as I traced patterns on his scales.

After a while, Glaedr raised his head. _He is waking again._ I stood and went to kneel beside the rider's cot we had dragged out. I watched as Oromis's eyes opened to look at his dragon. Then he turned to me.

"Glaedr says it was you who healed me." I nodded and looked down, unsure as to how he would take me breaking into his mind. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Oromis sat up and watched me as I avoided his gaze. "Child, look at me." I looked up and he flinched. "I was going to ask if you were alright, but I can see you are not. "You saw everything?" I nodded. My friends were all watching. He looked at me for a minute and then turned his gaze to the elf king. "The riders have been betrayed."

Evander nodded. "Who did this?"

"Galbatorix. Galbatorix is their leader. He was the one who stole Shruikan. Kialandí and Formora attacked me as I was fleeing Illrea. He intends to destroy the riders. We'll need everyone to fight."

"We'll tell the riders tonight and they will leave in the morning."

I had been staring at the ground again, but then I perked up. "I will go with them."

Evander frowned. "No, Meira. You are a human woman. Any rider. Even a human man could defeat you."

That was the last I was going to take. "I will go. I will fight. Do you honestly think a _man _could defeat me? I am human but I can still hold my own with elves with the sword. And my magic could very well best yours."

Gwendolyn cuffed me on the side of the head, hard and I turned, stunned by the not so gentle blow, to stare at her. "Meira, that is no way to speak with your king. You will apologize and show proper respect."

In my normal state, undisturbed by the visions I had experienced in the old rider's mind, I probably would not have reacted as strongly, but I had reached the edge. I stood. "I am fighting, there is no question. I do not care what misgivings anyone might have about me fighting, and I intend to help. And _he _is not my king. He is the king of the elves."

"Is that what this is about?" Gwendolyn asked quietly as the king watched me with an indecipherable frown.

"What?" I snapped.

"You wanting to meet others like you. Mortals. Humans."

I shrugged. "I don't want to be here any longer."

"I'll go with her." Vanir spoke up suddenly. "If Meira gets to go see the world, so do I."

At that the king looked up. "You will stay. While she can say she is not under my rule, though that could be disputed, you most definitely are, and you are a child still. I will order you to stay back."

He only nodded, looking disappointed, but not surprised. The golden dragon raised his head to look me in the eyes. _Meira needs to go to the humans. I can feel it in her mind. She is not accepted or appreciated here. If she wishes to leave, no one will stop her or they will have to face me._

_Thank you. _I whispered mentally to the dragon as everyone stared in surprise at the golden dragon. I assume the golden dragon felt he owed me some debt for saving him and his rider's lives. I looked around at the people surrounding me. "I am leaving Ellesméra."

–That was probably the one of the biggest decisions in my life, right after allowing Solembum to be my companion. Not that he would have left me alone if I had told him to let me be, but how awkward would that be to have someone with you all the time that you had told to go away and that you didn't want them. Continuing…–

I sat at the back of the gathering as the crippled golden dragon and his ill rider went before the crowd of elves and riders and began to tell what had happened with Galbatorix. When he stopped talking, it was quiet enough to hear the faint rustle of leaves by the wind, high above everyone. Oromis continued. "All of the riders must go to battle with the king. The elves will follow on foot. This is war. You will leave when the sun rises in the morning.

I had already had a row with my parents over going to war, but luckily I am skilled in the arts of persuasion and arguing –Though my father says he only agrees so he doesn't have to listen to my voice. How rude.– My father reluctantly agreed and the next morning I was to fly with them, away from the only land I knew.

–That seems a decent place to take a break. The following day, my life had turned a page. If anything the prologue had ended and I was about to be thrown into the real world. My story was about to begin.–

**Sorry about the wait. Next one should be shorter. I am going to edit one or two of the previous chapters for grammatical reasons. So if it updates and there is not a new chapter that is why. Under perfect circumstances (teachers laying off on the homework) I may post a new chapter Sunday or Monday. You guys are great. Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. I love you all.**

**Don't forget to tell me what you thought.**


	8. VII

**A.N. Alright. So this chapter was intended to go longer, but I was loathe to spend an inordinate amount of time describing the tedious flight over Du Weldenvarden. Acknowledging that, the next chapter should really get the story going. Read and review please.**

"You'd be safer if you stayed here in Ellesméra, Meira."

"Perhaps." I answered levelly. "But I would not be happier. I thought you and father said you would do anything to make me happy."

My mother nodded. "And we will. That is why we are letting you come, but we are making the rule that you will not seek out a fight with a rider or dragon if this does indeed amout to pitting rider against rider. You will promise or we will leave you here. Meira?"

I ground my teeth together. "Fine. I promise that I will not purposefully seek out a battle with a rider or dragon. Happy?"

"Yes." My mother took me in her arms, something she hadn't done in years. "You are my only child, Meira. I just want you to be safe. Your father will be talking to you as well, but we want you to know, just in case something goes wrong, that we love you and that we are proud of you."

I nodded, unable to think of an adequate response. Then I grinned. "But I bet father will not be so sappy about it, will he." As she stared at me with a lopsided smile, a look I seemed to get more often than normal smiles, I kissed her cheek. "I have to say my goodbyes to Vanir."

I contacted him with my mind and met him outside the door to his house. The sun was just at the treeline and I didn't have much time, but I wanted my last moments in Ellesméra to be spent with my friend. Gwendolyn had said her goodbyes already and was tending to the injured rider and his golden dragon. I paced impatiently until the door opened. He looked sad, but I was grinning ear to ear at the prospect of seeing the world.

"Can you believe it, Vanir? I'll finally get to meet humans, people like me!"

He made his best effort to be happy for me, but I had always been able to read him. He must have noticed that my face fell because he frowned more. "Don't let me ruin your happiness, Meira."

I smiled again to please him. "I was thinking that once I am out of the elves' domain, I will take up a new name." I said to break the silence that had grown between us. I had never been one for long silences. "I've never liked it, you know that, but entering a new world would be the perfect opportunity to change it."

He only nodded. "What were you thinking of for a name?" It was not uncommon for an elf to change their name after a few hundred years.

I shrugged. "Not sure." He started walking and I did not realize where we were going until we reached the arch that was the entrance to the queen's garden. "Vanir?"

"They got your sculpture put into place, would you like to see it?" I nodded and we began to walk through the gardens. I suppose I did think they were pretty, but in my mind the untamed beauty of deep Du Weldenvarden blew the gardens away.

I stopped in my tracks and Vanir smiled, his first true smile of the morning at my dumbfounded expression. In a patch of beautiful blood red lilies with black throats, stood the masterpiece of my hands, the carved dragon I had so aptly named Skogrdýr. It had been masterfully positioned under the shade of a leafy tree. As the branches moved in the breeze, the rising sun danced on the back of my creation, creating the illusion that the scales actually gleamed like a real dragon's. "It's amazing." I whispered to myself.

As my luck seems to go, Vanir picked up my words and laughed. "Have you truly sunk to complimenting your own work in such a way?"

Without thinking I punched his arm. "Shut up." I then frowned. This was the last time they would be seeing each other in a long while, if not forever. I chased the thought of forever from my mind. Suddenly serious, I turned to him. "Vanir, I want you to have something to remember me by."

"I'll never forget you, Meira. How could I?"

I looked down. "My life is over a quarter over, Vanir, but you will outlive me by hundreds of years, perhaps millennium even. I want to give you something that will make you think of me years later, when you remain and I am… gone."

He nodded solemnly, joking aside. I reached into my bag and withdrew the practice sculpture I had made, the one that hadn't been decapitated of course, and placed it in his hands. "You want me to have this? Are you sure?"

"Of course."

Vanir thanked me. I looked at the building we were leaving. He saw me. "What are you thinking?"

I grinned, unable to help myself. "I'm thinking that since I am leaving, I will do something I never dared to do if I wanted to live in Ellesméra."

"Why am I thinking this will land me in trouble?"

"Wimp. Give me a second." I reached out my mind and whispered a phrase quietly in the ancient language. "It worked." I said, beginning to giggle as I turned to run.

"What did you do?" He asked.

I lost it then, unable to contain myself. Unable to breathe, I stopped running. "I may or may not have done something to baby Arya." I started lauging again as Vanir paled noticeably.

"What did you do, Meira?"

"I turned her orange. I doubt anyone but Gwendolyn will be able to reverse it and even that might take a day or two."

He gaped. "Arya?" He questioned with a hint of incredulity as if doubting my sanity. "You are the bravest person I have ever met." I smiled at him. "But it may be foolish to wait around for the queen. Besides, its past dawn. You're late."

"You can't be late until you arrive, so technically I am not late. But you are right." We reached the dragons and he looked at me silently before embracing me tightly, nearly crushing my ribs. "I'll miss you." He said in my ear. I hugged him back tighter. Then he released me and smiled. "I do have one suggestion for a name. I don't know much human history or culture, but there is a popular children's story among the elves. The heroine was a tremendous fighter and outsmarted her opponents at every point with her wit. Reminds me of someone."

I grinned at him. "What name?"

"Angela."

"Good-bye, Vanir." I hugged him again before mounting Vanilor. I blushed as I realized all the riders had been watching us amusedly, but that did not stop me from waving to him one last time. Everyone had been waiting on me. I counted eight riders and their dragons. All but Vrael, but he was leading the elven army. Vanilor, the leader of the group when Vrael or his dragon, Fundor, were absent, roared and the group took to the air, battering the surrounding forest with gusts from their mighty wings. I watched as Vanir raised a hand in farewell.

Angela. I contemplated with a small smile as I watched my friend disappear. I was Angela.

**Sorry to anyone who was looking for some sort of romantic connection between Angela and Vanir (As interesting as that might have been. Too bad no one has written it.) There might be action in the next chapter. We get to see how Angela can handle herself. Please review, it means a lot.**


	9. VIII

**A.N. So sorry for the late update, but this was hard to make plausible. Very actiony and kind of depressing, but it had to happen eventually. Thank you to everyone who reviewed my story and I appreciate the feedback. Read and enjoy, but don't forget to tell me what you think! **

I would not recommend extended flight on dragonback to anyone wishing to retain their sanity. Sure it is an efficient way to travel, but the monotony of it all combined with the repetitive pounding of the wings really gets on one's nerves. Let me put it this way. It's like when you are sitting inside during a rainstorm and find there is a leak in the corner of your roof. It doesn't really matter and neither does it affect you, but the steady dripping gets under your skin. In the same way, flying by dragonback soon grows tedious.

I switched from Vanilor to Reina quite often to try and keep myself from the boredom that was threatening to engulf my mind. I had recited every song, poem, and story I knew as well as going through my studies of the human language. I talked with the dragons, but after four days of flying with very brief and limited stops, I am sure you get the point.

–Well, I have just been very rudely interrupted by a werecat that does not need to be mentioned. No, this is not completely relevant to the story, but it is preferable to recounting the entire flight. And I am allowed to complain if I wish. It's my story. Anyhow…–

It was at the end of the fifth day that I learned why my parents wished for me to live in Ellesméra. At the time I was sleeping, woken by a long, drawn out scream of pain and then I watched a body falling slowly through the air, an arrow through her chest. We all watched in shock as it landed with a sickening crunch before anyone could react. Then there was fire. A dragon's grief stricken lament for her lost rider echoed through the sky as she, alone, took on the five dragons that flew down from the clouds.

I stared at the dragon, my arms trembling and my eyes filled with tears. That was Jadreis who was attacking. The hundred year old olive dragon had lost her rider. Deidre had been a friend, and she had even taught me on occasion, but now she was dead. It was the first death I had experienced. Jadreis met the five dragons in a fury. Her rider was gone. Lost forever. Dead. Yet she remained. Without care for her safety, she attacked.

A youth on a smaller blood red dragon hung back. "Join us or die. We seek to renew the riders, to effect a change on the order. Any who stand in our way will perish. Do any wish to join?"

The last few words were drowned as Jadreis crashed bodily into a large steel gray dragon and tried to latch her teeth around his throat. They tumbled toward the ground as their wings tangled, each dragon snapping at the other's throat. But without her rider, the enemy cut her throat with a quick stroke of a gleaming sword and the first dragon fell.

I grimaced and turned away, trying to keep myself from throwing up. My father looked back at me. "Careful, Meira. We have to fight. It will be alright." I nodded, but the glory of seeing the world, of meeting the humans, was lost.

The red rider dove towards us. "No takers?"

There was a vehement refusal from the elves and my parents. They had taken a dragon's life. There was no forgiveness or mercy. It was war. I checked the straps on my legs and drew a long dagger from my belt as Vanilor met an ashy dragon in the air. I preferred my double swords, but I could not use them fighting behind my father.

I began to chant, weaving strong wards around myself that Gwendolyn had taught me and which I had changed to fit my own preference. After a feeling like a feather light cloak being put on me settled, I knew they were in place. My father raised his sword to guard Vanilor's spine from a deadly bite. Vanilor hissed and flipped away from the dragon, his claws teaving bloody furrows in the enemys hide. His rider, a pale skinned man with blond hair that was nearly white growled a spell and his dragon's skin knitted back together. Vanilor circled towards the ground slowly as he engaged with the dragon. I realized suddenly what he was doing. I was a handicap and they intended to put me on the ground.

"You cant let him get above you like that." I yelled urgently at my father. "We will be at his mercy."

"Your safety first, Meira." My father grunted as he attacked once again but found another rider's sword blocking his own. Knowing my father would not change my mind, I reached out on impulse before the dragons separated and slashed at the leather straps holding the enemy's saddle in place. The saddle immediately shifted, coming dangerously near to slipping off and the dragon and rider snarled as one. I grinned at my father.

"Now they need to land too, not only us." I watched as the dragon spiraled down and landed in a puff of dust. Vanilor landed a bit away, safe from the advancing rider and my father leapt to the ground. I watched as they engaged in a duel, the dragons beginning a battle of their own. My promise to my mother kept me from interfering until they attacked me first. I could not fight. Vanilor struck like a snake, sinking his teeth into the ashy dragon's side and twisting, tearing the muscles. The dragon screamed and his rider spun away, healing the dragon.

Still I stood frozen, unable to join the fight yet unable to abandon my father. I was terrified. Another of our dragons fell from the sky and collided with the ground, dead. Another pair was dueling on the ground. We had originally had more dragons, but now our number nearly equaled theirs.

I saw it before my father did. A sword slipped around his guard and cut deeply into his left arm, rendering it useless. I took a step forward, my heard pounding.

"Vanilor!" I shouted. Too late. In my father's reaction to his wound, the rider had taken the opening. Without my father guarding him, his opponent's sword slid into the purple dragon's chest, and the dragon collapsed to his stomach on the ground, steaming blood seeping from the hole in his chest.

"No!" My father screamed as his dragon slowly faded. The dragon blinked slowly and his eyes closed, never to open again. I managed to catch a glimpse of my father's eyes then and saw he was no longer my father. Rage and grief filled his expression as he charged the rider and dragon. I watched helplessly through tears as he battled them, holding his own for almost ten minutes before he began to sway from the combination of exertion and blood loss, he slowed and I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the last stroke. He fell and I knew it was over. I opened my eyes and stepped back. The bodies of my father and his dragon lay before me and the rider was now eying me.

Another rider landed behind me and I saw Rintín, a rusty dragon and his rider, both injured. The man grimaced. "I'm sorry, Meira." I nodded.

Then, I flinched away from a flash of silver and watched a knife pass my face. Then I laughed humorlessly and drew my double swords. He had attacked me. My parents had given me the right to defend myself. The man looked slightly afraid as I advanced. Rintín took on the ash colored dragon and his rider, Delton, joined me. "Meira, stay out of this."

I shook my head. "He killed my father." The elf looked at me and then nodded in understanding, it was my fight. With a sword in each hand, I lunged, striking at his chest. The man leapt back with a startled oath and brought his sword up before him. Immediately I engaged him in an series of intense attacks. As I went for a winning stroke at his neck, he sidestepped and I felt a sharp pain in my leg, forcing me down on a knee to support myself.

The sword swung toward me and I would be too slow to parry it. But then there was a rust red rider's sword between me and the enemy. Delton had left his dragon to help me fight, saving my life. Too exhausted and aggrieved to think properly, I opened myself to magic and allowed it to fill me, healing my leg. Shaky from the lost energy, I stood and got a better grip on my swords. I couldn't however reenter the battle of I could off balance Delton. So I waited, ready to spring back into the battle at any time. Neither Delton nor I noticed the knife the man threw until it was embedded in Delton's chest, through his heart. I watched helplessly as the rider fell, before my eyes.

Rintín roared and I knew his rider was gone. The rusty dragon launched himself fully at his opponent. I tore my eyes from the dragons and focused on the man before me. He was chuckling quietly. "Do you really think you, a human _girl, _could hope to defeat me when two fully trained riders failed?"

I growled in my throat and launched an attack on his mind. Startled, the man swore and set to defending his mind from the attack I was waging on his mind. We locked eyes, each trying to gain dominance, weapons forgotten in our fight. I sent a thought like a spear toward a weaker patch in his defenses, feeling him recoil and slam up shields, going completely defensive.

Redoubling my attack, I raised my swords and stepped forward. His eyes widened, but he was frozen. His utmost concentration was going into the contest. If he defended himself, I would break into his mind, but if he didn't defend himself, I would kill him. As I stepped closer, he panicked and a chink appeared in his mental armor. I dug in and his shields shattered. I grabbed hold of his mind and held him in place, preventing any movement or thought from being attempted.

Rintín had just gotten the other dragon's neck in his jaws. With a shake, he broke his neck and the dragon went limp. The rider in front of me was slipping from my grasp, shields being formed by the single-minded sense of despair. Before I lost my advantage, the blades in a cross, I placed the intersecting swords at his throat and pulled the swords, watching in horror as his head and body were separated. Then I collapsed to my knees and emptied my stomach, crying.

I had taken a life. A rider's life. It was my first time killing. Never before had I ever killed more than an insect and those only when they bit or stung. Wiping my mouth, I walked to my father's corpse and kissed his forehead one last time. His still form bringing fresh tears. "Goodbye, father." I whispered and then went to Vanilor. I wrapped my arms as far around his still warm snout as I could. "Goodbye." I managed to choke out.

Then I turned my gaze to the sky and my chest tightened. There was no yellow in it at all. In fact, only one of the dragons from Ellesméra remained. Panicked, I searched the ground and saw a shape, the color of sunlight. Making myself invisible, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, but as I neared, I saw the obvious truth. I was alone. Reina was dead, puncture marks at the base of her neck. I could not see any visible fatal wounds on my mother, but knew it was magic that had done that. My mother's legs were still strapped to Reina. Whispering my final goodbye, I ran, not turning even when I knew the last of the elven riders that had flown with us was dead.

I prayed to whatever gods existed, human, dwarf, and unknown. Anyone that would hear me. I begged them to let the other riders be successful. I begged that my parents' sacrifice not be made in vain. But I continued to flee. I reached the nearest city sometime during the night and climbed the wall with magic, slipping into Marna unnoticed. Once inside, I broke down, sinking against a wall and fell asleep in the alley the filthy ground becoming a welcome bed. I had entered the real world.

**That was kind of depressing really, but it needed to happen. So, what did you guys think? Any thoughts? Please leave a review. I love seeing what you guys have to say.**


	10. IX

–Remembering the first battle of the war still leaves me shaken after all the years that have come between. To going from being a accepted member of elfin society to a human girl on the streets is shocking to say the least. And I do not recommend the human cities if you have any choice. They are… well, you'll see. –

The first thing I noticed upon awakening was that my neck was stiff. However, that though had scarcely a second to sink in before my senses were overwhelmed by a blanket of stink. Trying not to retch, I pushed myself into a sitting position to take in my surroundings and search for the source of the stench until I realized that there was no one source. It was, simply, the city. After that conclusion, my stomach did empty its meager contents onto the filthy cobblestones. As I tried to recover, I found it impossible as I was inhaling the foul air and cast a spell to filter the smell from reaching me. Taking a deep breath of my air, I wiped my mouth and shakily stood.

Memory hit me like a club and I had to lean against the wall to support myself. My parents… No. I needed to be in control of my emotions. There would be time to grieve when I had figured everything out. Still, I may have taken a deep breath and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand before I could think again. I realized with queasiness that I was in the middle of a kingdom I knew nothing about. I had no money, and I knew no one. Nevertheless, I gathered my courage and stepped out of the alley into the road.

Walking down the road, my curiosity returned, first as a cautious flame, and then stronger as I examined, for the first time, a human. People were already about and I watched them closely, intrigued by the interactions. They were obviously different in culture than the elves, and I tried to understand what was going on as two men bickered over the price of a bundle of wheat. Turning back to the road, I saw a tired-looking donkey pulling a cart full of something that looked to be a sort of vegetable, turnips perhaps, and decided to follow it deeper into the city.

I was pleasantly surprised to note that the outer reaches, where I had slept, were the dirtiest part of the city, but that is not to say the inside was 'clean.' For the first time, I looked at my clothes; they were still clean after spending a night in the dirt. The white elfin tunic was unstained. Then I realized I had forgotten to end my spell from the evening before, the simple repelling spell that required almost no energy to maintain. I had used it to keep bloodstains from my clothing, nasty things to try and get out, but I was infinitely glad for it now. I did not look like some street rat. Maybe I had a chance.

Once I had reached what seemed to be the inner circle of the city, where the merchants and venders seemed to be, I was able to remove the spell filtering my air. I still made a face at the first waft that reached me, but I got used to it. For nearly an hour I observed the goings on until there was a disturbance. Two guards were convening on a mob in the square. Interested, I drew close. I caught scraps of the conversation.

"Little thief."

"-saw him, I did."

"It wasn't him. It was the other one. He was just-"

"Here are the guards."

I neared and saw that the boy in question couldn't have been seven years, wearing plain pants and a shirt. I took a breath of relief that the guards had arrived before the mob had gotten out of hand, but the thought died in my head as the first one to reach him swung a kick, sending the child to the ground where he began to cry.

A man stepped forward. "He stole from a purse!"

"No." The child begged. "I didn't. I promise."

"Silence." He was kicked again and shook. I stared at the scene with shock. The boy didn't look at all to be lying, and even if he did, who would hurt a child.

–At that time, still, the elfin belief that all children are a blessing was ingrained in my head. It's why, when that fool Eragon, 'blessed' the child in Farthen Dur, I helped. Anyway. –

As the man picked the child up by the scruff of his shirt and made him stand, I moved. Willing myself invisible with a whisper, I slipped through the observers to the child and cast a spell, starting a canopy of a stall on fire. As it fell, distracting the people, I grabbed the child and turned him invisible as well, running street away before I set him down and turned us visible again.

The little boy looked confused and then he looked at me. "You helped me." He said with a smiled and I couldn't help but smile back as he examined me.

Sensing he was waiting for something, I spoke. "What is your name?"

"Thomas Reldson." He answered, looking down. "What's your name, miss?"

"Mei… Angela." I corrected. I wasn't going to use that name now after what had happened. She was gone. I would start anew as Angela. "You should be getting back to your mother."

He sniffed. "I have to go through the square. What if they recognize me? They'll hurt me."

I looked at little Thomas. He was the first human non-rider I had spoken to and I was even more curious. "I'll protect you." He looked up at me and nodded, in his naivety not even questioning placing his complete trust in the hands of a stranger. I followed him and stood between him as a woman did indeed recognive then, but the glare I had perfected when I was angry with Vanir seemed to work even better on her and she turned, barely managing not to run.

We arrived at a combined apothecary and healer's shop. The boy pushed through the door and I followed, wondering what the inside of the shop would look like. I smiled as I looked around the small interior. It was exactly as I had imagined. Herbs hung from a wall behind a counter. Vials of potions sat arranged on shelves. It was well lit, light coming from the window as well as some scented candles. A woman stepped through and smiled at me.

"Welcome to my shop. Is there anything in specific you were looking-" She broke off with a gasp. "Thomas!" She ran to her son.

The boy looked up at me. "Mommy. She saved me."

Then I realized he was clutching his side. I crouched and had him turn towards me. "Hold still." I cast a spell to check how he was injured. "Bruises and a broken rib. Waise hael." He squirmed as his injuries disappeared. His mother was staring at me as if I had fallen from the sky. She seemed to realize this and blinked, forcing herself to relax.

"Are you a healer at the castle then?" I shook my head and she looked thoughtful. "I could really use a hand around the shop if you can heal like that. My husband was the better spellcaster, and when… when he died last year, it's been a struggle."

I thought for a second. "I'm not from around here. Actually, I could really use a job." I said, realizing my lack of money would be a tremendous problem in the city.

She beamed at me. "Oh, my name is Teresa. Would you need a place to sleep? There is extra room. We live above the shop."

"That would be… perfect." I smiled at her and listened as she began to tell me about the shop. I thought to myself, maybe humans weren't so bad, but then, I still had a lot to learn.

**So I have decided that all author's notes will be posted at the end of my work instead as often I really have nothing to say that is so terribly important that it cannot wait. Anyway, this is not at all what I had planned. I had a skip in my notes of what was going to happen and this sort of just wrote itself, but I think it is a good direction for now. **

**Anyway, please tell me what you think. Advice, criticism, praise, anything, just leave a review.**


	11. X

–Little Thomas was the first child I ever really met. As I have said before, in Du Weldenvarden, elf children are rare, and when I lived in Ellesméra, Vanir was too near my age and there was no way the queen was going to let me too near her _darling _Arya. So in retrospect, I suppose that he was the first of my species I was to meet as well as the first child. And ever since, whenever I see a smiling face or hear an innocent, sweet voice, I am reminded of him. –

As Teresa stirred a pot of boiling liquid, supposedly something to help cure coughing though which I would have had to be forced to drink because of the awful smell, I was set with the task of minding the counter and Thomas. Immediately after taking me into the business, she had begun to show me the ropes, and then, an hour later, I was already set to manage the store while she brewed potions in the back.

I couldn't help a slight smugness as she was astounded at my ability to remember everything she had told me and be able to repeat it back verbatim, but, of course, there was no way she could have known of my eccentric elf guru's odd teaching methods. In that case, the month she had decided I did not listen well and had taken to requiring me, by her whim, to be able to repeat back perfectly the last few minutes of conversation. I had spent too many hours doing her mindless punishments for failing her tasks.

–As I have said before, I hate being bored. Knowing this, Gwendolyn had made the most obnoxious punishments. She seemed to go out of her way to think of exceedingly tedious tasks for me to do. The one I hated most after I had, rather foolishly, tried to prank _her_, was when she handed me two good sized buckets with one full of water and told me to move the water from one to the other by dipping my finger in and letting the water roll off into the other bucket, one drip at a time. But that is beside the point. What I meant to say was that I learned my lesson well to keep from that sort of discipline. –

Reassured that I would not do something entirely stupid and still thinking she owed a debt to me for rescuing and healing her child, she was assured I could handle the job. Immediately I took a fascination to the many herbs around the shop, some were dried and some fresh in pots. I knew a bit of horticulture, as all elves did, but I recognized only several of the plants. I realized that I was in a new world. Even the plants were entirely different from what I knew.

Several customers came and went and I began to hear the rumors of the battle between dragons. I had become more and more disturbed before Teresa bolted the door and announced that it was time for lunch. It was then I realized how hungry I had become. Without speaking, I followed. Sitting around the table, with Thomas giggling and his mother playing with him, I was hit suddenly with memories of eating underneath the branches of trees back in Ellesméra, my parents and I sharing a quiet meal.

Despite my hunger, I placed the fork on the table and took several deep breaths, not aware that Teresa was watching me closely. My hands were shaking. "Angela?" She said hesitantly. I didn't respond. I couldn't. Her voice sounded concerned, but for her child and herself more than me. "I trust you because you helped Thomas, but I want to know who you are."

That was the last thread holding me together and she had cut it. I wanted to run, to hide, but I couldn't move. I was frozen as I began to sob. I faintly heard Teresa sending her son downstairs, away from me. I clenched my fists and the water in my cup began to boil rapidly, turning into steam within seconds as it disappeared. The young woman who had allowed me in was now backing up in fear.

"They're dead. They are all dead." I whispered and released the magic I had unconsciously taken hold of.

Seeming to realize that a danger had past, the young woman, perhaps younger than I, approached cautiously. "Who?"

I looked up and saw that she cared. Somehow, she cared for me, someone she had never met before. I decided I could at least do the favor of answering. "All of them." I gasped. "Mother and father. All of them."

The woman cautiously put a hand on my shoulder and her expression grew mournful. "I understand; I lost my husband almost a year ago. When?"

"Last night." I admitted, and that was the extent I could manage to say before I completely broke down. She put me up on a small but comfortable cot and told me that I should come back down when I was ready. Then, she left me to my grief.

I felt as if I would never be ready, but I understood that the woman, though a healer would be useful to her, could manage herself and her son through her small business. They couldn't, however, keep a useless mouth to feed. My desire to stay off the streets where I had stayed the night before drove me back down to the shop. When I returned back down the stairs, Teresa met my eyes and I wordlessly took the counter. She, however, didn't leave.

"You are not telling me everything. I don't need to know, but you seem different. I've never heard your accent before, and there are some strange rumors going around." I looked away. "You know, don't you?"

I sighed. "What did you hear?"

"No two stories were the same." She admitted. "But what I heard most was that a group of riders made to attack our city and the riders that were in the area had to kill them to fight them off."

"A lie." I hissed, angry that my friends and parents were being set up as enemies.

"You told me to say what I had heard. I have no idea as to the truth, but I am curious as to how you would know that is a lie."

I decided that if I was living with them, she deserved to know the truth, if only because I was unsure if I was putting them in danger. "My parents were two of those riders. There has been a rebellion among the riders. My group flew straight from Ellesméra when we were attacked last night by the rebels." I had to take a deep breath before I could continue. "I was the only survivor."

A comforting hand was placed on my shoulder and I could tell that the woman who had taken me in was doing some quick thinking. "What part did you play in all of this?"

"I… I killed a rider."

Her eyes widened and she involuntarily took a step away from me and her eyes went to her son. "Are we in danger? I am sorry, Angela, but if it comes to Thomas' safety…"

I sat down at the table, completely overwhelmed with my life. Not only had I separated from everything I knew, I had lost my family and taken a life. For the first of many times since my decision to leave the elves, I found myself wishing nothing more than for Vanir to come and save me. Never before had I felt so utterly lost. I looked up to find Teresa watching me, waiting for my answer.

"How long have you lived here? Do the people know you well?"

She seemed confused, but answered the question. "I have lived here since I married six years ago. Before that I lived in Teirm. I haven't really had much contact with people since my husband died. Between Thomas and the shop I can't really spare much time."

Angela nodded and then swallowed. "I could be a danger. I don't know if the riders saw me or know what I look like, but before you send me out, I have something to ask." Angela bit back her pride. "I have no one to turn to and nothing to help me. Yesterday, I slept in an alleyway on the edge of the city. I could help out your shop as a healer, but I would never want to put you in danger. I have an idea if you would accept."

"What is it?" Thomas was pulling at his mother's skirt and asking to be lifted. She sighed and picked him up.

"I could pretend to be your sister, come to help with the shop. I can change my appearance to be more similar to yours as well to strengthen the story. There is a chance that they already saw me with you, and I do not wish to leave you to anyone's mercy if they come. I can protect you."

Teresa looked at her son and it was obvious she was thinking of what the guards had done to him simply for being accused of thievery. If someone targeted her or her son, they would be helpless. She made her decision. "I suppose that will work. But do you still have weapons?"

I realized they were still invisible. I muttered a word and they appeared to her. "I was trained in the ways of elves. I can defend myself and those I choose." At my word, they disappeared again. "I'm sorry I brought you into my affair."

She shook her head. "If you hadn't, I do not know what might have become of my son. For that, I thank you and I am indebted to you." I slowly began to change my appearance, turning my hair blond and my eyes a hazel." I stood next to Teresa in the mirror and was pleased with my new appearance.

Even as we walked back to the counter, the door opened and three armored soldiers pushed through the door. I saw immediately that their hands were on their swords and that they meant business.

**There we go. It has a lot less action and suspense than I prefer to write, but they cannot all be like that. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and please tell me what you think.**


	12. XI

–I just can't wait till Solembum gets dragged into this disaster of a story. Maybe then he'll keep the snide remarks to a minimum. He has sworn to write what I dictate verbatim, in the ancient language, so I could say whatever I wished about him and he would have to write it down. Besides, however much he keeps pretending he hates doing this, he is rather persistent about me keeping up with it and he asks a lot of question. That werecat has too much pride to just admit that I _am _interesting. Anyway, we were at where the guards entered? –

I jumped at the sight of the guards and then tried to look frightened, not a difficult task as I already felt protective of the little boy, and I had put him and his mother into this position anyway.

Thomas clutched at his mother's skirt with wide eyes as he looked at the guards. "Mama. Are they going to hurt me again?" He asked in a terrified voice.

Teresa looked at him and spoke in a carefully neutral voice, hiding her own fear to reassure her child. "Go upstairs, Thomas." She tried to smile. "Why don't you go and play with your blocks, hmm?" He backed up slowly to the doorway and then fled with one last glance at his mother and me. Then, Teresa turned to the men, her hands shaking. "Can I help you? Do you require something from the apothecary?"

The man who seemed to be in charge fingered the hilt of his sword. I waited with watchful eyes, ready to draw if he so much as tried to remove his weapon from its sheath. He turned to me first. "There is no record of another woman living here. Who are you and why are you here?"

I took a moment and then looked at my feet, feigning anxiety and taking a deep breath before looking up. "I am Teresa's sister from Teirm." I spoke in barely more than a whisper, disguising my accent. "Since her husband died, the shop has been difficult to keep up and without a good healer. I know my healing and I am family so I wanted to help. Just got here a few days ago."

The man didn't seem to suspect anything. "Even if you only arrived, must have heard what happened. A group of dragon riders was killed. We are looking for a dark-haired woman with green eyes. She was seen with the group, and she is responsible for the killing of a rider." He frowned. "She is extremely dangerous, beheaded a dragon rider without help. Several people have admitted to seeing her enter this shop."

Teresa's eyes had widened when she heard about the violence, and I knew I had to think of something fast as she was going to be of no help. Hoping my accent was well enough disguised, I set to my task. "Was she averaged height, maybe a bit taller, and spoke with a sort of elvish lilt to her voice?"

"Yes. She was here?" He sounded as if he had not expected to hear anything, probably used to following the rampant rumors to their sources, only to discover some drunken out-of-work fool had spouted it off on the streets without knowing anything of the truth.

"Yeah. She didn't seem like the sort to be a murderer, but then, you never can tell." I said sagely. "I'm glad we all ended up safe."

The guard nodded in agreement and turned to Teresa. She was shaking and staring at me. "Miss, would you tell us what you saw?"

Her fist was covering her mouth and I suddenly felt sorry. I took her and had her sit down. Then I addressed the guards. "She seems to be a bit upset to know that we took in and fed that killer. Her son, you saw him, is very young. If she had wanted to do anything… well, Teresa only just lost her husband and if anything had-"

"Do you know anything else about her?" He cut into my babbling and I hid a smile. He looked bored and had no patience to listen to a commoner's rambling. My eyes flickered to the guard who had taken out a notepad at the beginning to write down all I had told him.

"The name she provided was Meira, but I don't know if it was real. As she left, I don't think I was supposed to hear, she was muttering something about Gilead. That's all I can remember."

He smiled genuinely. "Thank you, miss. You have been very helpful." Without another word, he turned and the other two followed behind him. Relieved, I sank against the wall, closing my eyes. Finally, I was able to take my hand away from my hidden weapons and loosen my tightly clenched muscles. When I finally opened my eyes, Teresa was staring at me.

"You can really think fast on your feet." I nodded wearily, but my mind was suddenly stuck on the image of the rider's head falling to the ground, the noise it made as his body and head fell separately to the dirt, the head rolling away with a trail of blood behind. I sunk to the ground, a wave of nausea forcing me to concentrate on keeping my meal inside me.

"Are you alright?"

I put my head in my hands. "I killed him." I spoke softly. Life is sacred, but I killed. If you had seen... It was terrible." My hands were shaking.

She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read. "I'll be right back." A minute later, she pressed a steaming mug of tea into my hands. "It will help you relax. Drink." For a while I lacked the motivation to take a sip. I deserved to feel as I did and there was no possible way I would be able to ever forget. It didn't taste all that bad. I admitted when I had finally raised it to my lips. Teresa sat in silence as I drained it. When I had finished, she took it. "Better?"

I looked up in surprise and noticed that I did indeed feel better. My stomach had settled and my hands were steady. It was then I realized that I was talking to the owner of an apothecary shop. Of course she would have something that could calm me down. I was an idiot. "Thanks." I said gratefully and stood. "I didn't think they would be here so soon. I'm so glad I was able to change my appearance."

She nodded. "I'm still amazed you managed to make all of that up so quickly. I could barely stand, but you didn't even blink."

I smiled slightly. "That may come from one of my teachers in Ellesméra. She taught me to think fast, but I think the majority of it comes from being caught in trouble a couple times too many. They were only men, but the elf queen…" I smiled. "You have no idea how many times I have had to talk my way out of things. And you cannot lie in the ancient language, so I had to work my way out with carefully worded sentences to twist the meaning. With this language, I can lie." A smile broke over my face. "I feel like I could convince anyone of anything desired if I wished.

Thomas peeked around the corner and his mother smiled at him and crouched, opening her arms to her son. "They're gone now. Everything is alright." With his thumb in his mouth, he went to his mother who picked him up, despite him being over five years old. Teresa looked to me. "You should go out and explore the city a bit. I think I may close the store for the day. I need to brew some more pain potions for the supply closet, it's low, and possibly some sleeping draught as well."

I nodded, glad for the chance to explore the city without worrying where I would sleep or find my next meal. "Is there anything I should know?"

She looked at me with a slight smile. "Use your common sense. Though I might guess anyone who tries to do anything to you might end up worse off than you yourself."

Walking through the door, I took the time to think of my new acquaintances. No, they were my friends. But still, it was obvious that Teresa was wary about me. She trusted that I wouldn't hurt them, but she had not let me see the real her and seemed to keep her son away. Not that I blamed her, but I was determined to win her trust. As I walked, I took the time to think over my short time staying in the city. I had met two humans: a boy and his mother. So far, I liked them. Humans seemed a much less complicated folk than the elves. They said what they meant, not bothering to think over every possible effect of their words.

Not to mention the fact that I could lie. The temptation was great, and I desired to test out this new ability when I had the opportunity.

I wandered into a small shop that sold pottery. I was curious as to what that was so I slipped inside. The small dark room was filled with jars and pots and vats of all sizes along with the plates and cups. I touched one lightly and was surprised at the coolness. Elves didn't use these _pots _as the humans called them. They used sung wood mostly, but I had seen some glass pieces as well.

"G'day, miss. Can I help you?"

Unnoticed to me, a young man had come out from a back room. I ran my fingers down the side of one of the larger pots, fascinated by it. "These are impressive. I am wondering how these are made." I said.

He looked surprised. "I appreciate your approval. I suppose I could show you the back. Slow time of the day." I followed him through a curtain on a door and walked into a hot room. There was what he called clay everywhere and he showed me a small demonstration, fashioning a small bowl within minutes. "Once you have it like you want it to look, it goes into that kiln there." I looked over at what seemed to be a giant stone oven that was glowing red through the cracks around the opening." He brought me back to the main room and I smiled, thinking over what I had learned.

The young man leaned against the wall casually. "You have an interesting accent." He said, looking at me as I examined more of the work.

"Hmm? Oh, yes."

Where are you from?"

I glanced at the man, slightly amused as I realized what he was up to. "Not from around here." I replied evasively before I realized this wasn't the ancient language. "Teirm." I said. "I got the accent from an uncle who lived a bit too long with the elves. I grew up with him." It was fascinating how easily those words could roll off my tongue. And the man accepted them without as much as a second thought to whether they were true. What power words held in the language of humans. While they could not guide magic, they could guide men.

He smiled. "Do you have a name?"

I was mentally laughing at what Gwendolyn would have said if I had ever asked that question. No, I knew what she would say. "Yes." I answered with a straight face.

"What is it?"

"Well, 'it' is a pronoun used to represent an object or animal." Gwendolyn would have been proud. A faint smile caused my lips to curl.

He looked at me, seemingly trying to decide whether I was crazy or messing with him. "what is your name?"

Finally the right question. "My name is Angela. What is your name?"

"Jorgen Danson."

"Nice to meet you, but I just arrived here. I want to have a look around the city, see what's here."

"Will I see you around?"

"Perhaps."

"Will you tell me where you are staying?"

I was half tempted to give that question the answer it deserved, but decided against it. "The apothecary and healers west of the market square. I'm taking over there as the healer. Maybe I'll see you." I left, smiling to myself. He had been nice, good looking two with his blonde curly hair and brown eyes.

Not paying attention to my surroundings, I bumped into someone. "Hey! Watch where you're going?"

"If I only watch where I am going, wow would I know where I was? Rather, you should have said 'pay attention to your surroundings' or 'watch what is around you.'"

The man shoved me aside, annoyed and angry as he had spilled some sort of liquid, ink it looked like, on the ground. "Think you are funny, girl?" He asked.

–There are times when a witty comment is the best response and can be a great solution to a situation, but unfortunately, I had yet to learn when that was not the case.–

"I was not intending to be funny, sir, but I appreciate that you believe I am. I was merely pointing out your flawed speaking."

"Are you calling me thick?"

"There is nothing to be ashamed of in that. Everyone is entitled to be stupid occasionally. The only problem is that some people abuse the privilege awfully."

"Don't you get smart with me." Unfortunately, I was inexperienced in the ways of humans and did not expect what happened next. A solid fist collided with my jaw, sending searing pain through the bone and leaving me gasping in shock.

The next moment, as his fist was coming toward me a second time, training took over. I took the fist in my hand and twisted his arm, forcing him to kneel on the ground before me. "You do not hit me."

At that moment, two other men came from an alleyway. One drew a knife and I knew I needed to escape. Releasing the man, I stabbed at the men's minds, confusing them for a few seconds while I made my escape. Running down the streets, I heard yells at first, but then they faded until they were nothing.

I continued wandering the streets, exploring all the areas and stopping in many stores. I skipped lunch without much caring, but around dinner, my stomach began to protes the neglect and I began to make my way to Teresa's store. There was a problem though, I had no idea how I had gotten to where I was nor did I know how to get back. Needless to say, it was almost nightfall when I returned.

"Where were you?"

I mumbled something and she raised her eyebrows. "I got lost."

"Oh. I thought maybe something happened. I saved you food." I ate quietly, refusing to touch the food which came from living creatures. She shook her head and went to bottle the potions she had prepared. My life in the city had just begun.

**A.N. Okay, so what did everyone think? Just leave a review. While I prefer a constructive comment to help me improve, a single word anonymous review id better than nothing. So leave one? One more thing. If we can get to one hundred reviews, I will dedicate the next chapter to that review number. So go ahead. I dare you.**


	13. XII

**This chapter is dedicated to Silverleaf of the Faerie for being the story's one hundredth reviewer. Thanks!**

–Not one of my better days.–

I woke up in a cold sweat, my hands clenching the sheets and my body trembling as the last remnants of my nightmare disappeared. As images of death and my parents' lifeless bodies, I could not help myself from weeping quietly. I had been separated from everything familiar and I was alone.

A hand touched my shoulder briefly and I leapt up, a dagger in my hand as I faced the person who had touched me. The wide eyes of my host, Teresa, immediately reminded me of where I was and that I was safe. Her expression showed concern and she sat in a chair near the fire, still looking at me.

"Are you alright? I put some tea on the fire that will help you relax and fall back asleep."

I sat up, drawing the blankets with me. I realized that I did not know the name of the rider I had killed. The idea upset me. Teresa was still watching me, waiting for a response. "I… I'm fine." I stuttered embarrassedly, still shaken from the graphic horrors of my vivid dream. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't be. I wake up often in the night anyway when I am brewing." Teresa shrugged. "You didn't wake up Thomas, he's a deep sleeper.

She handed me a cup of tea and offered me sugar. I took a small spoonful and then handed it back, bringing the hot liquid to my lips. For a while, as we drank our tea, we sat in silence.

"I've always found it calming to be awake at this time of the night. It is so silent and calm."

I shook my head. "I've never liked the night. In Elesméra when I would be up in the dark, everyone could see almost perfectly but for me. I stumbled around as if blind, unsure of who or what was out there. It was a weakness."

"I could see that." She said thoughtfully. "But here you are the same as the rest of us." She finished her cup of tea. "If you feel able to test your capacities as a healer, a man will be coming in around noon to pick up a potion I brew to help him sleep. He has a limp from a poorly healed break in his leg from when he was younger. Is that within your ability?"

I nodded, a slight smile touching my lips. I did not wish to be a burden to them. Teresa could support herself and her son, but an extra mouth would lead to difficulty. "Thank you." I said, the nightmare banished from my mind, no longer haunting me with its terrors.

At dawn, I awoke and Teresa, after a small breakfast, sent me out into the city to find a certain glassblower to refill her supply of vials for her potions. Glancing at a map of the city she had drawn for me, I began to navigate the streets. Eventually I found myself in the part of town most of the crafters occupied. A long straight street held branches with separate buildings, shops.

I walked almost to the end, near the wall and turned to my right. Sure enough, there was a shop with all sorts of glass bottles and jars. Curiously, I entered, pausing in the doorway.

A middle-aged man with a gray beard and rosy cheeks walked over. He nodded to me as he placed a box of bottles on a shelf. "Hello. Did you need something?"

"Yes." I dug in my pocket and handed him over a sheet of paper that Teresa had written. The man went into a back room, leaving me standing in the doorway, and brought back a small box full of vials. Paying him, I departed, making my way back to the shop. The city confused me and completely ruined my sense of direction. Dropped in the deepest depths of Du Weldenvarden I could navigate myself anywhere, but walking in the city, a place travelled by children, I was lost.

Eventually I made it back and pushed through the door, setting the box down. Teresa threw an amused look at my obvious annoyance and began to put away the glass where it belonged.

"Haldrin, the man with the limp, should be arriving shortly." I nodded and went to sit on a chair with a book she handed me with hand drawn pictures of plants, from their roots and leaves to their stems and flowers, side by side with detailed descriptions of all the properties of the plant, including their uses whether good or ill. It had fascinated me when she told me that she had written the book herself, and I had become determined to learn about the herbs. How she had managed to calm me and put me to sleep with them left me amazed at their use and yet afraid of the potential danger they could possess.

I almost didn't notice when a man walked in, but he drew my attention from the book as he went to the counter. Teresa walked over and picked a neatly labeled bottle from beneath the counter and set it on the glass surface.

"Haldrin, I have a matter of business that might interest you." She smiled. Teresa gestured toward me. "My sister is a healer from Teirm. She could heal you leg for you, free."

His eyes narrowed. "And what do you get from this?"

"Exposure. No one knows Angela is here, but you could get the word out. That is the price."

He looked directly at me. " And you know your art?"

"Yes." I raised my hand, a soft golden glow enveloping it before I drew a glimmering gem from the water in the air before letting it melt in my palm. "I know my art well."

He huffed, sounding brusque, but I could see from his eyes he was impressed. He looked at Teresa and then at me. "Very well."

I pointed him to a chair and then closed my eyes, feeling out the bone with my magic. I looked at him. "Not only the bone. Do you lack any feeling in that leg?" He nodded sharply. "I will do what I can. Be aware; this will be uncomfortable." I whispered a phrase in the ancient language, bending the magic to my will and working the bone slowly back into alignment. It set suddenly with a snap, but I had been shielding the pain. That done, I worked on the nerves, chanting a few sentences and swaying as I felt the magic take its toll. After ten minutes, I stood, wearied and gestured for the man to stand.

"I think that's it. Try to walk."

He gingerly put weight on his bad leg, wincing in anticipation but then his eyes widened and he walked to the other wall in back. "You… you actually healed it." Excitement filled his tone. "Thank you." I smiled, but a headache was setting in. Nodding, I returned to my chair and cleared my mind.

Teresa handed him his potion. "I will count on you to spread the word." She said.

"I will uphold my end as you have yours. She is quite the healer." With a wave of his hand, he left.

Teresa smiled at me and then came over. "You look awful." She said quietly.

I gave her a wry smile. "Thanks." I shook my head. "Trained by them or not, I am no elf. It's just… I'm weaker here." She nodded and I leaned back in the chair. Then I realized something. "Do you ever invent your own potions?" I asked quietly.

She smiled and nodded.

"Would you be able to make something that could help provide energy?"

Teresa frowned. "I don't know. I don't think that energy is something you can make." She mused. "I'll look into it though." I left to go and take a short nap. When I came back down, Teresa was sitting on a couch, trying to teach her son the letters. The sight made me smile.

"I think I'm going to go out and explore." I said, feeling locked in by the house. She shrugged and praised Thomas as he got his letters right. The boy giggled as she tickled him. I shut the door quietly behind me and walked to the square. Once I was there, I leaned against a lantern pole and watched what was going on around me.

It was fascinating to say the least. The humans went about their days with a frenzied confusion. They rushed from place to place, not heeding or not noticing what went on around them. It was so different from the elves that I felt as If I tried to enter the mix, I would be swept aside, too different to fit in the order.

"They say that girl is still on the loose though. You know, the one that killed a rider."

I froze and turned my head to hear better.

"Demon-spawn, she must be. Either that or the riders are growing weak."

"Haven't seen a rider these last few days. Strange."

"You haven't heard? There was some sort of rebellion. I've heard say that they are fighting amongst themselves."

"No?"

"I swear it's true."

"No wonder they can't keep the city peaceful. Can't even govern themselves."

"Really. Did I tell you my daughter is going to be married?"

I tuned them out as their conversation became mundane. The riders were fighting. Of course I knew it, but for everone else to be finding out meant it was probably getting serious. Running back to the shop, I realized that the army the elves had been mobilizing would have left by now. And at the speed that the elves travel, they might be on the edge of Du Weldenvarden.

In the shop, ignoring Teresa's questions at my running, I grabbed a platter from a shelf and filled it with water, casting a spell to see if I could reach the scrying mirror the elves used to communicate. I knew the words and the spell worked, a picture of the king's tent coming into sight.

He spun to look at the mirror and then he saw me. "Who?"

I suddenly realized that I had disguised myself and cast a spell to release the effects. Speaking in the tongue I was more comfortable in, I met the king's eyes. "I had to disguise myself." I explained.

"What happened, Meira? I couldn't contact anyone."

He must have understood at the tears that stung my eyes. "They are dead. Everyone but I." I whispered.

Shock registered in his expression along with grief, but then is countenance softened. "Could you tell me exactly what happened?"

I nodded and then began to relate what had happened as they attacked, but before I had even started, he stopped me. "I am going to get Vrael first. He needs to know as well.

I waited for the leader of the riders to arrive before I began. I started from when the first dragon had attacked from above. As I reached of my father's death, I completely broke down, sobbing. Evandar waited paitiently.

"I'm sorry." I managed to get out between gasps. I jumped violently at a hand on my shoulder. A mug was placed in my hands and then Teresa left again. I appreciated her thoughtfulness and drank deeply, trusting that it would help. My heart immediately began to settle and I relaxed.

"Who was that?" King Evandar questioned.

Glad for the break in conversation, I glanced at the door. "I helped her son." I explained. "I'll get to that, but I need to finish before I am unable to."

"After… after my father died, I was still finally able to fight. The rider tried to attack me and I could enter the battle without breaking my oath. Rintín and Delton came to help me, but they were both already injured. Delton began to engage with him and then the rider threw a knife. It killed him before he knew what was happening." I gasped. "At that point, Rintín thought of nothing but destroying the dragon he was fighting. The rider then turned to kill me, but I don't think he expected that I would put up much resistance.

"I managed to get into his mind and stop him from moving. Rintín managed to kill the dragon he was fighting and my grip on the rider's mind began to slip. Before he could break free, I… I killed him. I beheaded him." I gasped, hugging my knees to my chest.

"My parents, their dragons, everyone was dead. Rintín was killed as he flew into the mess without a thought for self-preservation. There was only one dragon and rider left at that point, fighting in the air. I… I said goodbye to my parents and turned myself invisible to enter the city."

There was a long silence as Evandar and Vrael both stared at me. Then the king nodded. "Where are you now, Meira?"

"In the city. I saw some people hurting a child." I said. "I couldn't stand by and I helped him. When I brought him to his mother, I healed him and the mother is letting me stay with her as a healer. She owns an apothecary."

King Evandar looked at me. "What do you intend to do?"

I looked up at him. "I want to fight, but I cannot." I said. "I swore to my father that I would not fight a rider except for in self defense, and I would be of little use, so I will not. For now, I intend to stay here, disguised."

"Why?"

I met the king's eyes. "I was raised as an elf, but that does not change the fact that a quarter of my life is gone. I will not live forever. I don't know how I can explain this, but I _need _to know my people. Here is somewhere I can do well for myself. I… I always thought I would be like all the other humans, but I was surprised. I am one of a few that can use magic, and I would say that out of the humans, even including the human riders, I understand magic the best."

Vrael shook his head. "Child, you may have beaten one rider, but-"

"Vrael." The king said quietly. "Let her be. It is her choice, and I happen to agree with her. And she is the one to whom both Glaedr and Oromis owe their lives. She healed them where Gwendolyn failed."

The rider's eyes widened. He looked to me. "If that is true, the riders are in your debt. We might not have know of this until it was too late. I have gathered those who resided in Du Weldenvarden and we go to fight. You can rest assured that these traitors will be brought down."

I nodded. "Thank you." I whispered. Exhausted, I ended the spell and collapsed onto a chair. I leaned back, transforming my appearance back to my disguise and rested. Teresa came in and gave me another cup of something.

She met my eyes. "It is not quite supper, but I think you need sleep more than anything now."

Too weary to protest, I went up to my bed and lay down before downing the tea that almost covered up a bitter taste. It took a few minutes, but then I had fallen into a deep sleep.

**I'm thinking a several month leap might be in order for the next chapter. I have to apologize about the wait you all had for this one. I got really into my other FanFiction and this one kind of got pushed aside. I'll do better, so expect more regular updates. **

**Anyway, please tell me what you think!**


	14. XIII

"I've got it!" Teresa shouted up the stairs to where I was teaching little Thomas to read.

Confused, I placed the book on the table, and walked to the door. I paused and held out my hand and Thomas jumped to his feet and ran to take my hand. His thumb made its way to his mouth and I smiled at him.

"What did you get?" I asked curiously, walking into her lab where she brewed old potions and created new.

She held up a rather disgusting piece of… well, I am still not quite sure what it was, but it looked oily and brown. I looked at it with a bit of apprehension. She grinned. "You asked me to try and create something to help restore energy faster after magic. While I cannot be entirely positive until we test it, I think this is it."

I stared distastefully at the lump of… whatever… and then nodded. "You couldn't have made it any less appetizing, could you have?"

She grinned. "Come on. It's not that bad. At least it smells like it. The texture though you might have a point on. A woman is coming in later today with a leg that was severely broken when she fell through some rotting boards covering an old well yesterday. It will be a good chance for you to test this out."

"I can't wait." I said sarcastically and then walked to the door. "Did you need me to pick up anything?"

She shook her head. "Go amuse yourself. I don't care."

I nodded and went outside, following the path to the market square and bought myself a piece of candy with some of the money I had earned. Then I observed the people, recognizing several of the regulars and some that I had seen once or twice before. My eye caught on the travelers and I saw one man who was standing by a large black stallion, a sword strapped to his waist. Slipping into an alley, I changed my appearance to give myself red curly hair tied back with a leather strap and blue eyes as well as the image of a bow on my back. I had considered making myself look and sound like a man, but something about the idea just seemed wrong.

Thoroughly disguised so as not to bring suspicion upon my hosts, I walked over to the man and smiled at him. He looked at me skeptically. "What do you want?"

I leaned against the brick wall and smiled. "I was wondering if you might have an idea of what is going on outside this city's walls."

"But why would you need to know, miss?"

"Because I am a warrior." I answered without hesitation. "Now, tell me. The Forsworn is what they are called, right?" I knew, but I did not wish to seem too well informed.

The man nodded in affirmation. "Aye. The Forsworn. There were thirteen, twelve now as one was killed outside this very city. It's strange. After their first attack, they never directly confront groups of riders and even then only when they outnumber them and have the element of surprise."

"The elves?" I questioned.

"There was a battle not long ago farther south. The elves took on the Forsworn."

"And?"

"The battleground has been renamed the burning plains. The elves were forced to retreat from the battle."

I nodded morosely and then looked more closely at the man. "How do you know all this?"

"I have only recently traveled here from Dras Leona. Word travels quickly." He cocked his head. "Warrior or not, this is no woman's business. Leave men's work to the men and don't get in the way."

I recognized my dismissal, but bitterness at being addressed in such a manner nagged at me. I glanced back over my shoulder and then whispered a word in the ancient language. I am not proud of my actions then, but it amused me that his saddle would give him blisters whenever he thought of women in any kind of degrading way.

Full of new knowledge, I walked over and bought myself a small piece of candy before walking over to the potter's shop. I slipped through the door and waited as I watched a middle-aged man haggled over the price of a case of ceramic mason's jars. Jorgan glanced up and smiled at me before taking a few minutes longer to settle the deal. Once he had been paid, he dismissed the customer and turned to me.

"I haven't seen you in a few days." He commented, putting the money in a safe.

I smiled. "Teresa has been teaching me the business of herbs. I never knew that there was so much to know about plants. You can make potions for everything." I then realized that he was grinning at me and crossed my arms across my chest.

"Are you laughing at me?"

He fought to hide his smile. "I can tell you are very enthusiastic. I wasn't laughing."

I rolled my eyes at my friend –for my friend he had become– and stopped my rambling over herbs. "Whatever. How have you been?"

He shook his head. "Same as always. Making pottery and reading." He waved me to the back room and showed me a bowl that was in progress. I looked with not a little wonder as I crouched to examine the intricate carvings of dragons on the sides.

"This is amazing." I said quietly as I spun the wheel it was on, examining the patterns.

"Thank you." He said modestly. "You just seemed so interested in that piece I did with a dragon a few weeks ago I thought that I would try and do something more."

I smiled at him and stood. Jorgan was watching me closely and seemed startled when he realized I had noticed. A blush crept onto his cheeks and he looked away, unable to think of something to say for a while. Then he looked at me again. "I was wondering if you wanted to eat dinner someplace with me tonight." There was a bit of hopefulness in his voice.

I looked at him in confusion and then nodded slightly. "Sure."

He smiled then, bolder from my agreement. "I'll meet you then in front of the apothecary at six then?"

"Okay." I returned to Teresa's shop humming. It was common for an elf to invite a new acquaintance to dinner when they wished to get to know them better. It was a gesture of kindness and thoughtfulness. I wasn't quite sure what it signified to the humans, but I did not think it would be very different.

–At that point in my life, I was still hopelessly naïve about the customs of man. Never once did it cross my mind that he was asking to court me. In hindsight, that day could not have been any more out of control than it did. And as Solembum just so candidly put it. I waited long enough to dictate this portion of my story for him to write and I could really continue if I know what is best for my health. I think he may be bluffing, but then, with werecats, you never can be too sure of anything. Safer for everyone if I just get on with the story. Um… yeah.–

I arrived at the doorstep of the shop at the same time a man carried a pale-faced woman up the steps and to the door. Politely, I held the door for them and followed them inside. The man went and set the woman down on a chair and then turned to look at me.

"Are you Teresa?"

I shook my head. "I'm Angela, the healer, but I will fetch Teresa first. It is her shop." I looked at the pain-drawn face of the woman and her bleary eyes. "Just a minute."

I ran upstairs and Teresa was attempting to get Thomas to drink a potion, but the little boy was coughing and turning his face away. "A man and the woman you spoke of are here." I said quietly and she looked up from her son.

"Thomas caught a cold, but he won't drink anything I give to him." She sighed. "It is nothing life threatening, though. Let's go." I followed her downstairs and she walked to the man. "Hello, Nathan I presume? "

"Yes, and this is my wife Emily. She had a bad fall yesterday as I presume our servant informed you."

"Yes. Yes. Angela, would you examine it?"

I nodded and went to kneel before the young woman. She must have been a few years younger than I was. I lifted her shirt to her knee and then grimaced as the bone was broken both below and above the knee, shattered into many pieces it seemed. My spell confirmed it a moment later.

"Teresa, could you fetch something to put her out for this?"

She nodded and returned with a small leaf which she slipped between the woman's lips. In a few minutes, the woman went limp. I mover her to a couch and the cast a few more diagnostic spells over her body.

"It is a wonder she is alive. If the bones had been pushed even a small bit further, it would have pierced the artery in her leg and killed her within minutes."

The man had gone pale. "Can you help her? I will do anything to keep her alive and well."

I paused a moment to look at his sincere face and obvious worry. "I should be able to help her." I looked at the shattered leg once more and frowned, forming the spell in my head before I began to whisper the words, laying the framework for the spell before I filled it with magic.

The bone pieces began to move within her body, traveling to where they were originally. The lower leg I set with a loud crack and her husband flinched. Ignoring them, I continued to work, feeling my energy slowly drain. I drew more energy from the amethyst pendant that hung beneath my clothes, a gift from my mother, and stopped the slow internal bleeding from the wounds. The muscles I stitched together with magic, but was unable to heal her completely as my strength flagged.

I withdrew and looked wearily at the two people watching me. "She will live and walk again, but she will have to go easy for a while. The rest will have to heal naturally and the muscles will have to strengthen."

I swayed slightly and Teresa stayed me with a hand on the shoulder. "Easy." She said as I tried to stand. "You do too much." She helped me to a chair and I bent over, my head between my knees as the familiar headache I got from overexerting my magic flared. Teresa left for a minute. Then she placed something sticky and warm in my hand.

I sat up slightly to see the brown mass she claimed might help restore energy. "You have got to be kidding me." I had forgotten about her creation.

"Just eat it."

Too exhausted to put up a fight and cowed by the fact she had managed to sound exactly like my mother, I put it in my mouth and chewed. To my surprise, the oily texture was not as bad as expected and the taste was not _that_ abominable. I forced a swallow and then returned to my position.

I was once again surprised when in a few minutes, I had recovered enough from exhaustion to sit straight and my headache faded even before it had become too much to bear. I looked at the two conscious people in the room and then at the woman.

The man went and sat beside his wife, taking her hand. "I cannot thank you enough for saving her." He watched her sleeping face. "How long does this last?"

He looked to me, but I shrugged and looked to Teresa. She paused for a moment. "It lasts approximately an hour, and we should be right about at that point. Any minute now, I would guess she wakes up."

Teresa fetched us all tea and we sat in relative silence, waiting. Finally, the woman turned on the couch and opened her eyes. She looked startled by finding everyone watching her and looked to her husband.

He smiled. "How do you feel?"

She sat up and her hand went to her almost-healed leg. "I'm not sure. Better." She corrected as she moved her leg.

I yawned, still slightly tired from my work, but not exhausted as I had been before. "You should be completely healed within the week and walking on your own after a few days."

"Thank you." Her husband said again before he went and paid. After that, he helped his wife limp out of the store.

Teresa walked over to me. "How did it work?" she said, referencing her creation.

"Not a substitute for rest or sleep, but I am in a much better state that if hadn't eaten it."

"I will tweak the recipe a bit and see if I can't improve it."

"Aright." I said before yawning again. "I think I'll take a nap if you don't need me right now. I'm going out later."

"Oh?"

I shrugged. "The man from the potter invited me to dinner at six." I said. Teresa giggled slightly and hid her mouth behind a hand. "What?" I asked curiously.

Still smiling, she shook her head. "Go take your nap."

Confused, I went upstairs to my bed and fell immediately asleep. A hand touched my shoulder and I woke with a start, only to find Teresa looking down at me where I slept. "I came to tell you that it will be six soon and if you wanted to get ready…"

"Thanks." I got up and stretched before dressing and braiding my hair to the side to keep it out of the way. Pleased with my appearance, I walked downstairs.

At exactly six, there was a knock on the door and I opened it to find Jorgan standing there. He smiled at me and I returned it freely, waving goodbye to Teresa, who was grinning widely. The door shut and Jorgan turned to me. "Unless you have somewhere specific you would like to go, I have a place in mind."

"Wherever you think." I responded. "I don't really know the city that well yet."

He nodded and we walked down the streets, passing people who took no interest in us at all. We stopped outside a tavern and he glanced at me. "It can be a bit rough sometimes, but the food and drink is the best in the city. Still, if-"

"It's fine." I assured him, looking up at the sign hanging above the door. It read _The Fighting Dragon _and bore the image of a forest green dragon reared on its back legs as it spouted a burst of yellow-orange flames. I had walked past the tavern many times on my ventures through the city as I strived to memorize the roads and end my habit of becoming turned around and lost in the many streets.

I had never actually gone in, but I was tempted to see what a tavern was. The elves didn't have such things. A balding man with little neck and beefy arms paused outside the entrance to fill his pipe and light it before taking a long draw and then blowing out the smoke in rings with practiced ease. After he had done that, he pushed open the door and entered.

Sounds of talking and laughter mixed in with the underlying sound of music leaked through the air to where we were walking and I smiled slightly in anticipation. My curiosity would soon be put to rest over what was inside. The door shut and the sounds were muted to a dull buzz.

We reached the door and Jorgan held it open for me. I smiled in thanks and stepped through. Immediately my senses were inundated by the flood of noises, smells, and sights of the inside of the tavern. Jorgan led me to an empty table near the bar and we sat. I paused to listen to the men around me. Obviously embellished and fabricated tales were being shared over glasses of ale and mead as they laughed and joked without a care.

No one seemed to notice our entrance but a young serving maid walked over wearing a dress that was immodestly low cut and left her very… exposed.

"What would you like?" she asked.

Jorgan smiled. "We will have whatever is cooking tonight. To drink, I will have apple mead. Angela?"

"I'll have the same as him." I said, having no knowledge of human drinks. After Jorgan passed her a few coins, she nodded and made a mark on a tablet before walking away.

In a minute, she returned with two full mugs of a golden liquid and set them on the table before each of us. Jorgan thanked her and then took a drink from his mug as he waited for the food. I looked at the mead and then tried it. The taste surprised me, but the drink in itself was rather weak. I suppose I had built up a tolerance having only been exposed to the elves' faelnirv, the strongest of any drink I had tasted.

Jorgan and I spoke quietly over mundane matters for a while, both enjoying our time. A man walked over and leered down at me. Jorgan stiffened and made to stand, but I caught his eye and shook my head. While it was admirable that he wished to protect me, I was perfectly able to watch over myself.

I leveled a glare at the man, but he was too heavy with drink to understand the weight of the threat I was giving. The expression on his face was full of lust and I became uncomfortable.

–One thing about elves is that you never feel uncomfortable around them. They are far too proper and polite. You never feel as though you need to watch your back in fear of being attacked. No, among the elves you may make enemies, but at least you know they would never make an attempt on your life. Neither do they look at you in the same disgusting way that men sometimes do.–

The man grinned. "My lady, you are beautiful."

"I am not interested." I spoke coolly, giving him a final chance to back off. He still did not get the message and his hand reached out with surprising speed to grab my wrist.

Battle skills kicking in, I twisted my wrist to grab his instead, jerked him down to my level and then planted my elbow in his face.

The man grunted in pain and his hand went to hold his nose, the other still managing to keep a firm hold on the pint of drink.

I then realized everyone in the tavern had been watching us and grew nervous, hoping I had not gotten us in trouble. Even the magicians had paused in their playing. Then a woman began to laugh and then several more joined in before the noise refilled the room and everyone slowly forgot about what had just happened.

"I admit I did not expect _that._" Jorgan said with a look of awe on his face. "I don't think you could have handled that any more smoothly. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

I froze and then smiled as I remembered once again the wonders of lying. "My father thought it was a good idea for me to be able to defend myself." I shrugged. "He was a soldier and was in the position to teach me."

Jorgan seemed to be thinking for a minute before smiling. "I'd say he taught you well."

The same serving woman that had brought us drinks carried out two steaming bowls and a bit of anxiety hit me and my stomach turned. "What is it? I asked nervously.

"Vegetable soup and bread." She responded and I let out a breath, not believing my luck. I had not even considered that I might be served meat. I nodded and took my bowl, dipping a piece of bread in the broth and tasting it, finding it much to my liking,

For the next twenty minutes, we talked and laughed, having a good time.

It was then that a stray bit of a conversation hit my ears. "Got them from when those dragons were killed."

I froze. Jorgan was watching me. "Angela, you look really pale. Are you alright?"

I took a deep breath and then shook my head slightly. It had been a couple of months, but the pain had not faded in the least.

"See, look." He opened a pouch to show his friend whatever was in the bag.

Not wanting Jorgan to be suspicious of my actions, I rested my face in my hand, trying to get my breath back and then reached my mind to the man who had been talking. Random thoughts assaulted my mind. I learned his name was Markus and forced my way through his memories.

_He rode down the path toward the city late that evening, wanting only a bed and something to drink, too exhausted to think of much else. A sudden flash of light drew his attention upwards and he glimpsed a flash of fire in the sky. Curiously, he watched and as a group of dragons collided with another, their roars and screams filling the skies as the massive aerial battle commenced._

_The man hid on the edge of a copse of trees, too frightened to leave them for fear of the fighting riders seeing him and turning their wrath there. He watched as one group finished off the other and flew off into the sky to the south._

_After waiting a while to make sure that all were indeed gone, Markus crept toward the battlefield and walked among the bodies. A thought crossed his mind and he smiled, drawing a dagger. The knucklebones of a dragon were said to have magical properties and to the right buyer, they could bring in a load of gold._

_Kneeling along the right front leg of a deep purple dragon, the man butchered the dragon's cold foot, congealed blood sticking to his hand._

_Even as he finished his project, guards drawn by the racket and fight were approaching from the city. Not wishing to become caught, he rode around, giving the battlefield a wide berth and hid out for several days before entering the city._

I pulled out from his mind to find Jorgan's hand on my arm. "Angela, what is it?"

I met his eyes and I knew he saw my sorrow and pain. "Will you promise me that whatever happens here, you will give me a chance to explain before you judge?"

"What do you-?"

"Please."

He nodded. "I promise I will give you a chance, but what-"

I stood, letting my appearance back to my original state and walked toward the counter, approaching the man who had violated the corpse of Vanilor. "Give them here. Now."

The man looked at me and then laughed. "And why would I do that?"

I growled and he flinched. "Because what you did was terrible and wrong. You were foolish to think that you would escape punishment for such a deed." Without pause, I reached my hand into the pocket I had seen him deposit the pouch into and stole the bag of Vanilor's knucklebones.

The man cried out in outrage and drew a sword, swiping at me with fury. "Give them back. They are mine."

"They were never yours." I said angrily, ducking his sword. Many people rushed toward the doors and fled from the fight, but many remained, drawing weapons and turning on me. Jorgan stood frozen by the wall, confused and afraid.

"I don't want to hurt any of you. Go now."

A man laughed. "The girl thinks she can best eight _men _carrying swords. She does not even carry a weapon."

I drew my double swords then. "Leave."

The only response was another laugh before the men converged on me, all attempting to kill. I allowed my mind to relax and feel the thoughts of everyone around me. I did not have the leisure to fight with my mind –and had not yet been trained well enough to do more than one person at a time – and so I simple studied their next moves, gliding through the fight in smooth strokes of my sword.

I pierced the chest of one man who was better than the rest, nearly reaching me, to protect my safety. At that, one of the men ran through the door, but none of the others would let me be. "Fight, girl." One mocked as I ducked a blade and blocked another, not striking at the men for fear of taking more lives. But then a dagger, thrown by the bartender before he hid away, pierced my shoulder as I spun at the last minute to prevent its striking my heart.

That was when I snapped. Ignoring the terrible pain of the wound, I sprung at the man who had taken the knucklebones and beheaded him before spinning to the next man and running him through his stomach.

The tip of a sword etched a shallow, but long cut across my stomach as I was too slow to dodge properly. I danced around their attacks and killed the rest of the men. The bartender stared at me in fear and I put him to sleep. He, at least, had done nothing more than defend his shop.

I swayed on my feet and looked to see Jorgan staring at me in indecision, a knife gripped in his hand. I dropped to my knees, the reality of what had just occurred sinking in and began to weep.

Making up his mind, Jorgan walked over and crouched beside me. "Angela, come on. Stand." He pulled me to my feet. "I'll bring you home. I don't know anything of healing, but Teresa will." I forced myself to my feet, nauseous, and looked at him, whispering a spell in the ancient language, hiding us from anyone's sight and wiping the bloody trail by footprints created.

The shock and adrenaline were finally wearing off and I leaned more and more on Jorgan as he helped me toward the shop. He glanced at me. "I will be expecting the explanation as soon as you are able. I have given you the benefit of the doubt, but I do not trust you right now."

I nodded weakly, having expected no better. We reached the door and it opened. I ended my spell and Teresa gasped at my bloodied appearance. I stared back at her blankly, unable to form my thoughts into coherent words.

"Angela." I barely heard her. "Angela." I didn't respond. "Meira?" She questioned and my head jerked up, the name my parents a blow to me after I had relived that night.

Despite Jorgan's support, I fell to one knee, unable to remain upright. She caught me before I could fall the rest of the way to the ground. My last memory was being lifted onto a bed and a foul tasting potion being forced down my throat as the two people in the room conversed in low voices. After that, all there was to remember was blackness.

**Almost five thousand words. And there it is. Because of Inheritance, I had to rethink how it is possible for Angela to live to the age she does and to fit all the random info CP gave into my story. It is harder to make plausible than you could guess. But I think I have got it now. Please leave a review to tell me what you thought of the chapter.**


	15. XIV

The first thing that came to me was the pain. I woke completely disoriented and afraid. A pained cry escaped my throat, and I turned onto my side, curling inward on myself. A hand rested on my shoulder and I flinched away violently.

"Easy, Angela." The voice drifted through my dazed state, but I did not understand. "Meira." My eyes shot open and fixed upon the concerned face of a woman with blond hair braided behind her. She smiled slightly at me. "Meira, can you understand me?"

"Teresa?"

"Yes, do you hear me?" I nodded slightly and tried to focus. Soon, my head cleared and I could see. "Hmm… I think the potion is working. Meira, try not to move, alright?"

"Angela." I whispered. "Call me Angela."

"Alright. How long was I unconscious?"

She smiled slightly. "Only a few minutes. I revived you fairly quickly. Until you have the energy and strength, which I will determine, you can heal yourself, but until then try to remain still. Are you still in pain?"

I grimaced. "I can deal with it." I turned my head and saw Jorgan standing in the doorway with a scowl on his face. Teresa glanced at him and I spoke up. "Teresa, I promised Jorgan an explanation."

She nodded. "I'll go."

Teresa left and I leaned back into her pillows. "I'm guessing you want to know what happened." He nodded, still watching mu with a guarded expression. "What I tell you, I would prefer to be kept between us, alright?"

"Fine."

I reached over to the table and grabbed the pouch. I handed him the bag. "These are the knucklebones of a dragon?" He questioned. "These are what you took?"

I nodded weakly and, against Teresa's orders, I tried to sit, uncomfortable speaking to someone on a different level that me. It was a bad decision and I should have at least put a little thought into it. Needless to say, I was rendered incapable of doing anything besides trying to breathe and survive the pain.

"Angela, didn't she just tell you not to move?" I heard the man swear and hold me still as I writhed. It was a few minutes before I could breathe normally again. Despite the mistrust and suspicion in Jorgan's eyes, there was a hint of concern remaining. "How do you feel?"

"Honestly?" I managed to say. "Like I've been stabbed."

He looked startled at my sardonic reply and then laughed slightly. "I suppose I deserved that answer."

"What do you want to know first?"

"Who you are." He said. "You have been deceiving me the entire time you have known me."

"I know." I said, feeling guilty.

–The novelty of lying had faded somewhat as I realized what power it held to hurt. It never occurred to me before that it could in any way be morally reprehensible. While I still make use of lies when necessary, I swore never to lie to my friends. Half-truths and avoiding questions, yes, but to outright lie to those who I cared for…–

"Until several months ago, I was Meira. It was the name my parents gave me, but after several months, when I left my home. I became Angela."

"Why?"

I couldn't meet his eyes. "My entire life was ripped away from me in a moment. I'll never be the same person that I was before that."

He nodded, accepting my answer. "So what happened tonight? What was with the dragon jawbones? I mean, I know they are valuable, but the more I think about it, the less it seems that you cared about the price."

I leaned back, taking a breath. "You see, I was raised in Ellesméra. My parents were both riders. The man… he said they were from the purple dragon. That was… Vanilor. My father's dragon and my friend." I began to cry then as I shared my story.

By the time I finished, he was simply staring at me. I shifted, wincing at the burst of pain that shot up from my shoulder. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I understand why you lied to me." He spoke softly. "I won't tell anyone, but I also cannot be with you. I can't trust you, and you are dangerous."

"I understand." I whispered, hurt. He nodded once and then stood to leave. "I guess that this is goodbye." I nodded and numbness filled me as he left. –I would never see him again.–

Teresa appeared in the doorway and sat beside me. "Are you alright?"

"Can I try to heal myself?" She looked at me closely and then nodded. I closed my eyes and placed my hand over the wound in my shoulder. "Waise hael." I fought the urge to cry out as an uncomfortable, but not quite painful settled beneath my skin. I grimaced and waited it out. Thirty seconds past and I cut off the spell, exhausted. The wound was not entirely healed, but a puckered pink scar stood up from my skin. It would do for the moment.

"I think I need to sleep." I said and then a sudden thought hit me and I whispered several words to disguise myself, once again turning into the blond sister of Teresa. She only nodded and put out the lamp.

–For the next few days I suppose I was a bit of a downer. Poor Thomas actually asked if my head was 'hurt' to in the attack. Cheeky little bugger. So anyway, skip forward some irrelevant days where I moped around the shop and we'll resume the story.–

I walked downstairs to find Teresa and Thomas sharing a meal. With a quiet greeting, I joined them.

"I've been thinking."

Teresa looked at me and raised her eyebrows slightly. "Yes?"

"By staying here, I am putting both of you in danger. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you on account of me."

"You're leaving then? I wondered how long it would before you decided that."

"So you're not angry with me for leaving you?"

Teresa smiled as she wiped up the cup of water her young son had just spilled. "Since you first told me your story I knew that you wouldn't be here long."

"You took me in anyways?"

"It's not like you haven't been helpful around here anyway. " She stood and got me a plate. "When do you plan on leaving?"

I bowed my head slightly. "Today. This morning. I _must _go." She nodded in understanding and a heavy silence fell as we continued eating.

It was not two hours later that I found myself standing at the door with a heavy pack loaded with food and spare clothing. I knew it was time to leave the city. Where I would go I had yet to decide, but then, thinking ahead was a trait that had had to be painstakingly beaten into my brain.

"So… I guess this is it."

Teresa smiled at me and then stepped forward to hug me tightly. "I'll miss having you around. It was good while it lasted."

"I'll miss you as well." I knelt, holding out my arms to Thomas who leapt into them immediately. "Bye, Thomas, I'll miss you as well."

His thumb had found its way into his mouth and he pulled away, looking at me with eyes. "When you gonna come back?"

I felt tears wet my eyes and I kissed him on the top of the head. "Here, Thomas, this is for you." I unwrapped a delicate looking carving and placed it in his hands. It was an intricately carved eagle, a memento for him to remember me by. "Goodbye, Thomas, Teresa."

I paused once at the threshold of the door and looked back once more. "Thank you for helping me to get back on my feet."

"Goodbye, Angela. Good luck."

I smiled and closed the door behind me, wandering toward the gates of the city where the guards let me out without interest. The path I would take was unknown to me at the time, but it influenced my life immensely.

Uncertain where to go, I stood in the center of a field, my pack at my feet, and lay down in the moist grass to watch the clouds and calm my mind. I had time.

**And there you go. The chapters should become more interesting now that she is out again. Leave me a review. More reviews may urge me to write faster, not that I'm trying to bribe you or anything.**


	16. XV

_When lost alone out in the wood,_

_A long time waiting there I stood._

_It was nearing winter and the trees were bare_

_I had to move on but I knew not where._

_Then upwards I looked, to see the night sky._

_A falling star was shooting by._

_A sing it was, the king gods send._

_So I followed it north to my journey's end._

The stupid scrap of verse I had overheard on the streetcorner was irritatingly stuck in my head. the austere tone and simple chords did nothing to dispel the ditty from my mind no matter the methods I attempted. It had been going on for over a day.

Thus my headache.

Well, that _might _not be entirely true. I _may _have mistaken the sweet and edible gooseberry for a slightly poisonous and bitter one I only ate three before I realized my mistake, but it was enough to have me emptying my stomach for the next hour. That _might _have been the true cause of my headache, but the song is dreadfully irritating.

–Argh! Just thinking of that song has it running through my head. Whatever, perhaps if I continue it will go away…–

Eventually, tired of wandering aimlessly and the tune still running through my head, I decided, having no better option, that I would try to appease whatever had placed the song where it was and go north and see what was to be found there.

Being a wanderer is a lonely existence for one as sociable as I. And soon, to maintain my own sanity, I began to talk to everything around me.

–No, solembum. Stupid cat. He suggests that talking to myself in an attempt to preserve my sanity only proves that it was already a lost effort. But if the rude beast would have allowed me to fiish, perhaps he would have understood. –

I was speaking in the Ancient Language as I opened my mind to the things surrounding me. I felt the trees listen as I sung to them of things such as rain and sun and the animals watch me pass as I told them about the world outside the forest I was traveling. At some point, an eagle became my companion for the course of several days as he listened to my tales, but then he was gone, set out to see Du Weldenvarden and Ellesméra to see with his own eyes the things of which I had spoken.

I was sitting alongside of an ice cold stream, letting the cool water run over my swollen and bleeding feet. After a week and a half of my trek, my elvin cloth boots had worn thin, not intended for such travel. I wished for something of a more sturdy nature, wool, but there was no chance of that.

"Waise hael." The blisters and cuts slowly healed and the swelling went down, but my feet and ankles were still sore and stiff. Even magic could not fully heal when I gave no time to recover. I knew it would only be a matter of hours before the wounds would return. With a sigh, I cast a spell to warm the air around be and combat the biting chill of the cooling wind and pulled my cloak closely around my shoulders. My childish determination and naïve curiousity had led me here, into the middle of nowhere with each night growing colder, the amount of spells keeping me alive and sapping m energy would grow. My strength was fading as the spells sapped my energy night and day, the small brush providing a meager sustenance to aid. Each day, the distance I traveled grew less and less and my inability to collect a significant amount of food hindered me further, leaving me thin and weak. I knew that I was on a slippery slope, but I kept moving. Out in the middle of nowhere, no one was going to come to my rescue. I had to save myself.

Several more days passed the same and I was resting in the middle of a long valley, a glistening river running through. I was huddled next to a small fire, warming my hands over several dead, burning logs as I roasted an edible fungus over the fire. It tasted terrible, even worse than the putrid scent it gave off, but it was nutritious, more than I could say for most of the bland, leaky meals I had eaten in the last few days.

It was then, as I ate the fungus, that a shadow drifted along the valley. I glanced up and saw the form of a blood-red dragon against the gray clouded sky. I waited breathlessly for it to pass, but it seemed luck was not on my side. The dragon lazily circled toward the ground before landing.

"Great. Just great." I muttered to myself, making my expression composed and serene, as I recognized the pair to be some of the traitors. The rider dismounted. He had jet black hair and eyes that didn't match.

Looking down, I curtsied, hoping to avoid arousing suspicion.

–I gave up on _that _method long ago. Now I attack. I attack fast. Before the enemy even knows what is going on. –

"Have you seen another dragon around here?"

I glanced at the red beast with fear. I couldn't help being disturbed by the sheer violence in the dragon's eyes or the way it watched me as if I were prey. "I have seen no other than yours."

The man eyed me with pursed lips. "You sound like an elf." I ducked my head, waiting with my hand only an inch from the hilt of my invisible weapon. The rider continued. "You are the human girl of whom they spoke." He flashed a feral grin. "_You _killed a rider. Galbatorix gave orders to take you, dead or alive."

I paused before I spoke, my mind spinning as fast as it could. The words of my teacher, Gwendolyn, came to my head. _'A battle is like an argument. If you lose your temper, you have lost the battle.' _While it was not foolproof, it was more than I had before.

The oath I had sworn to my parents still held me, the oath seeming more and more foolish the more time passed. All the rider would have to do would be to take me without fighting and I would be helpless to resist. "Like I would go with the likes of you." I spat at him, a strange but yet truly insulting thing I had picked up from the humans. "Cowardly traitorous basterd. Why were _you _chosen to join the ordor. You don't belong." The man's jaw was clenched, an angry tic playing in his cheek. "_I _could defeat you." I said more confidently than I felt. I knew I was grasping at straws. "Your dragon might be able to defeat me, but if he were not here, you would not stand a chance. I would easily win."

The man glared, rising to the bait. "You are an insolent girl."

"Fight me then." I smiled. "Unless you truly are a coward."

He growled and drew his sword. "I will bring you head to Galbatorix, but first we will settle this. We will duel."

"You dragon should promise not to interfere. You would be weak if you needed him to defeat a girl.

The man was dense. He looked to his dragon and the dragon obeyed his rider. _I promise not to attempt to sway the duel in any way, nor interfere._

I nodded and drew my twin blades. He lunged, and I blocked his first strike with mine, dancing away from his superior strength. Then, I stepped forward, deflecting his ruby sword as I slashed at him with my second blade, using my light form and agility to mark him.

My sword tasted flesh, but the red rider flinched away before I could inflict more than a shallow cut. His eyebrows narrowed. Five minutes passed and I felt him begin to lay siege on my mental defenses. My back stiffened at the attack and I barely raised my sword in time to guard against his next strike.

Lack of food, combined with exhaustion was wearing down my body as I continued to fight. It would only be a matter of time before my strength failed me.

All of my focus was on the battle and I did not see the second dragon until it was close, about to land. The dragon's muscles rippled as it landed.

A curse came from my opponent's mouth and he threw a baleful look at the newcomers, allowing me time to shrink from his attack on my mind.

"I knew you were around here somewhere." The newly arrived man spoke, leaping from his dragon's back to the ground.

"Brom."

"Morzan." The man said with a dark chuckle.

I leapt away from a viscious swing, almost caught by my distraction. "I have been waiting for this day."

"Let the girl be." We were circling each other warily, waiting for the attack to continue.

"Galbatorix wants her." I spat at him again and he swore. "She deserves to be killed!"

A blue blade met the red and the man glanced at me. "Get out of the way so that you don't get hurt."

Knowing that I was exhausted, I obeyed, watching as the dragons joined the fray, ripping at each other's throats. I stood back, watching from the edge of the battle without distracting the participants until the red rider yelled, "Letta!"

The man, Brom, suddenly fropze, bound by magic. I ran forward to defend him as Morzan sought to kill him as he was struggling to break the spell. He knocked one of my swords from my hands. The traitor spun suddenly, anticipating the sudden fall of the sapphire dragon as the red knocked her to the ground. His blade was going to pierce the hollow of her throat.

"No!" My remaining blade the far one, I did all that I could to save the dragon. I threw myself in the path of the sword at the same moment that Brom broke free of the spell holding him and flung himself at the enemy, forgetting his sword. The sword pierced my chest, slipping through my ribs and into my heart, Brom knocking Morzan to the ground as I swayed on my feet before my legs buckled, pain erupting in every inch of my body.

I met the aquamarine dragon's eyes as if looking through a thick fog and she blinked once, understanding that I had sacrificed myself to save her. My vision faded for an instant and then returned for a few seconds, a glimpse of red against the sky all I saw. And then all went dark and still as my senses faded, my dying heart beating futilely, becoming weaker as every pulse pumped more blood from my body.

–Hmm… That should do for now. Obviously I lived, but as to how, my heart beyond the skills of Brom to repair, shall have to wait. As of now, there are things that must be done.–

**A.N. Please tell me what you thought. Was it good, bad? Leave a review. And I need suggestions for names of urgals if anone has any ideas. If they are good they could end up in the story eventually. Thanks.**


	17. XVI

–It is difficult to lay out the events that took place after my injury from my own memory of the event, but, in an attempt to understand what had taken place, Brom had shared his memory of the event with me. It is from that memory I tell my tale.–

–You know what, it is awkward to write in first person point of view when one is unconscious. Hate me if you'd like, but this is my autobiography and I will write part in third person if I so please. And now for what happened.–

Saphira let out an echoing roar as the girl fell to the ground, blood seeping through her clothing and into the earth. The infuriated dragon launched herself at Morzan's dragon. –Strange. His dragon's name is like a drunken memory, there, but not clear enough nor well enough remembered to truly grasp.– Brom's shoulder dug into the older rider's as he pushed him away from the dragon Morzan had come close to killing. Brom vindictively swiped Undbitr at his neck.

Already wearied from his fight with the girl, it was becoming obvious that Brom would win. With a shouted curse at the blue dragon and rider, Morzan leapt to his dragon's back and they took to the air, winging off over the trees.

After they were safe, Saphira let out a low whimper and touched the body with her warm nose. Brom knelt beside her and healed the surface of the wound before sadly shaking his head. "It is far beyond my skill to save her."

Saphira sniffed at the woman that was barely clinging to life and spoke in a whisper. _Morzan's blade would have killed me. _There was sorrow and guilt in her voice. _She knew she had neither the strength nor the speed to counter the attack and so she threw herself before the blade. She sacrificed herself instead._

_She is dying. Morzan would have killed me as well when he held me in that spell, but she stopped him. We owe her both our lives and yet we do not even know her name._

Saphira began to hum, a mournful keening noise deep in her throat. The sound Brom recognized as one used to honor a dragon's passing. Very few riders were honored in that way, let alone strangers.

_No._

The dragon's voice was loud, accompanied by a ringing trumpet which startled a flock of white geese to the air, honking in displeasure as they passed overhead.

_She saved us without thought for herself and we let her _die_? We cannot allow this to pass. _A cold fury had come over the dragon, and her talons had sunken deep into the ground.

Brom laid a calming hand on his dragon to no effect. He sighed. "I can do nothing, Saphira." He spoke complacently and out loud, trying to calm Saphira as he knelt, taking the girl's cool hand.

Saphira released a torrent of fire from her iron jaws, reducing a rock into a small, silvery puddle. And then she went still. Her head hovered just above the woman and Brom's eyes widened at the magnificent amount of energy pooling within the dragon He gasped, but knew it was not his place to interfere in what was happening.

Saphira drew a long breath and lowered her nose to touch the girl lightly on the chest, right where her heart lay. A blue light seemed to flow from everything near and surrounded the trio in its eerie glow.

–Okay, now it is normal again. I thought first person point of view would be strange, but talking about myself so detachedly is quite strange as well.–

A pain like white hot flames came from everywhere and I screamed, not knowing what was going on or even if I was alive. Surely death was not as painful as this. Dead souls went to the Void, didn't they. For a moment the humans' concept of hell passed my mind, but it was lost a second later when the pain stopped suddenly.

Warmth spread from my heart outward through my body until it had filled my toes and fingertips. My eyes shot open and I immediately fell into a coughing fit as I choked on the blood that had filled my lungs. The pain continued to tear at my chest and I unknowingly curled into a ball, trying to end it.

A hand rested lightly on my shoulder and I jumped. I had forgotten where I was and even who was with me, but when my eyes opened and saw Brom's face, I remembered. "My… chest. How am I… alive?" I managed to get out through my clenched teeth.

"I do not know." The man's voice was quiet and calm. That, more than anything, helped me to relax and fight against the confusion and panic that was rising inside of me. He had a kind voice, and he sounded young. "Don't try to move yet. You have lost a lot of blood." My sight went dark and I did not struggle as unconsciousness took hold of me.

I woke in a state of confusion, not having remembered anything. My chest was still sore from the coughing fit I had suffered to expel the blood from my lungs, and I had a headache stemming from an unknown cause. My wound had been fatal. Unless… Brom was extraordinarily gifted in healing and had immense power? No. No one was that powerful. My eyes opened and my confusion only increased. I was in a warm bed underneath several blankets.

"You're awake."

Not strong enough to answer that question in the way it deserved, I groaned and sat up, pulling the blankets closer around me as I watched the man. "Who are you?"

He didn't look at all surprised by my question."Brom Holcombson., rider of Saphira." I nodded, but he frowned. "Who are you? It is a question Saphira and I have been wondering for days."

"Meira." I answered without thinking and then frowned confused. "No, I am Angela." At his concerned expression, I sighed. They had saved me. Somehow. They deserved to know the truth. "My birth name was Meira, daughter of Eliza, rider of Reina, and Mathieu, rider of Vanilor." I coughed weakly, the effort of speaking hurting my throat. "I now go by Angela."

He handed me a bowl. "While you were unconscious, you would eat and drink nothing, and you were not fit to begin with."

I glanced down at the bowl and then became almost sick. "This is broth." He nodded and I shoved it away, into his hands with disgust. "No. No. I will not eat _that._"

Brom sighed. "Angela, you are starving and you lost a lot of blood."

"No. I… I can't." The mere thought disgusted me. It was akin to murder.

He seemed to be thinking for a moment before he responded. "Answer me this one thing. How is not eating this going to help the rabbit I made it from. Would you rather it goes to waste? Be thrown out?"

I glared at him, but then a deep voice filled my mind. _Child, eat. I eat only meat as did the dragons that bonded to your parents. Is this wrong? Are we evil?_

_I can't._

The dragon almost sounded amused by my continued protests. _You have never tried. Animals eat weaker animals. That is the way of life. _The dragon pulled away. _You will feel better if you eat._

–For anyone who does not know, it is nigh impossible to win in an argument of logic against a dragon. Vanilor was the worst of them, but Saphira obviously had experience. Then again, Brom was a stubborn fool.–

With a sick feeling, I took the bowl in my hands, sure I was going to throw up at any moment. "If I eat this, while I'm with you, will you promise not to kill any more to feed me?"

Brom frowned. "I know not what is edible around here, and at this time of year it is even worse. I cannot make that promise."

"Then I will not eat."

I watched as Brom closed his eyes in an effort to keep his temper. "You will eat now, or I will force you."

Looking into his face, I judged his resolve and sighed. He _would _force me. It was no empty threat. "Fine." I snapped, taking the bowl from his hands.

Another wave of revulsion swept over me as I raised the steaming spoon to my mouth. He watched, amused, as I made a face as soon as the hot broth hit my tongue. I gagged.

"Surely it is not that bad." He snorted.

I ignored him and stared accusingly at the bowl. The taste wasn't _that_ abominable. It was where it came from. Several hours ago, the thing I was eating had been hopping around the forest. Closing my eyes and ignoring my mind's protests, I finished the bowl of broth, my only condolence that I had not been expected to partake of the meat directly.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

"What happened?" I demanded finally, sitting up. My hand went to my chest and I pulled aside my shirt to see a silvery star shaped mark where a mortal wound, or at least a scar, should have been. "It looks like…" My eyes fell on Brom's palm. "What-?"

"I know not how she did what she did, and neither do I know exactly what she has done to you. She wishes to talk with you besides. Come."

I took his arm and he led me out to stand before his dragon. I was unsure exactly of how to greet her, and in the end merely touched my lips and bowed my head. She dipped her head in response and I sat down, cross-legged and looking up into the dragon's face. And then I waited.

Saphira looked at her rider, and then lowered her head to look at me more closely. I held still as her warm breath blew my hair back from my face. _You are a stranger in this land, and an alien among the elves. To neither land do you belong._

I frowned at her, annoyed that the dragon had chosen to point this out. "I thank you, Saphira, for healing me, but what is the significance of the mark on my chest?"

Brom was fiddling with a whittling knife and a rowan branch, working on carving a staff, but at my question he paused and looked to his dragon, curious also.

A puff of smoke went up from the dragon's nostrils. _Magic, true magic, comes from the earth, not the body. When it is necessary, true magic is what dragons wield._

"And?" That dragon spoke only in riddles and vague statements. I meant to ask if she was always like that, but it had slipped my mind, and the next time I saw Brom, it would have been cruel to reopen the cause of his suffering.

Her shoulders lifted in a strange shrug-like gesture. _You saved my rider's life and you saved my life. To allow you to die, unthanked and unrewarded would have been wrong. I did what I was led to do, and the magic marked you and healed your body._

I nodded, thinking. "What, may I ask, is the meaning of the mark you left on me?"

Saphira lowered her head to the ground._ The fire-silver-scar? I cannot be sure._

I rolled my eyes at the dragon. _Let us examine this another way. Besides the obvious, what effects does the gedwey insignia have on a human rider? The mark, while obviously different, seems to carry the same essence._

She blinked. I sighed and relayed the question to Brom. He frowned, deep in thought. "It is a connection to dragons and magic. I don't know what she did or how she did it, but there is a feeling about it." I stared at him. "If my guess is correct, and my guesses usually are, Saphira had been concentrating on making you live when she reacted. I believe that you might live quite a bit longer than expected for a human."

–I'll admit my expression was most likely a bit comical as he spoke that, but it is not every day a rider tells you his dragon may or may not have made you immortal. At the time, it was unsure, and I barely dared believe it, but as time passed, there was nothing I could do but agree with Brom's suspicion. Since that day, I didn't appear to age one day.–

–Hmm… Elva bears the same mark on her forehead, so I suppose she also could live for an extended amount of time. That is, depending on what Eragon's Saphira gave her. It is somewhat ironic that Eragon's father and his dragon's namesake got into a similar predicament. Ah… well I'm glad Brom felt he could restrain from cursing me. But back to the story.–

I gaped at him before shutting my mouth and calming my mind with an exercise Gwendolyn had taught me in order to stop the panic mode my mind seemed so often to drift into when faced with unexpected situations. "It has happened or it did not. I suppose I will find out in the years to come."

Brom stared at me for a minute and then, after seeming to question me further, he sighed. "You are far to pale, and I know your fever has broken, but it is still too high. We did not save you only to have you die on us. And unfortunately, blood loss cannot be healed by magic."

"What are you saying?"

"Take a nap."

"I… no… Just no." He smirked at my irritation, but there really was no logical reason for me to resist. I was exhausted and attempting to stand, or even sit, without help, would have led to me fainting or to some other similarly embarrassing end. Without protest, I settled into the blankets and did not fight a yawn, mentally trying to run the events I knew of one more time before I settled. Then, as he went off to tend Saphira, I drifted off into sleep.

–And with that, I shall conclude this chapter. –

**I just couldn't write this one. It went through five rewrites, and I still don't completely like it, but I am going to post it anyway. Please leave a review and tell me what you think.**


	18. XVII

"Wake up." I groaned and covered my head with my arm, trying to ignore Brom. "Angela…" He said, clearly irritated. "Get up. We are leaving, now. Believe it or not, I am not going to leave you ill and out in the forest, and I have somewhere I need to go. Vrael has summoned me to Doru Araeba to meet with the other riders. I told him about you and he wishes to meet you in person. I was told that you had spoken to him through a scrying mirror."

"Go away." I mumbled, pulling the woolen blanket more tightly around my shoulders. He seemed to listen and I heard his footsteps go farther, but then they returned. "Aaargh!" I yelled, startled. He had dumped a bucket of melted snow water on me.

I sat bolt upright, reaching for magic to get my revenge. "Why, you-" The insolent rider was laughing at me.

"Well, you are up now." He observed in a level tone as if commenting on the weather. I glared.

Then I heard the jumping growl of a dragon's laughter and saw that the head of Saphira had invaded our little cave where Brom had brought me to recover. _Child, we really must be going if we plan to reach Doru Araeba in a timely manner._

With a sigh, I whispered a spell to speed the evaporation of the water and to warm me up_. _Then, stretching, I looked over at Brom. "I don't understand what Vrael wishes with me. He knows I cannot fight a rider. My oaths prevent that."

Brom shrugged. "He claimed that King Evander had said you were quite accomplished at magic and have knowledge in healing." His expression turned grim. "The revolt is lasting much longer than expected. Galbatorix only continues to grow in power, and we lose more and more riders and dragons."

I rolled up the bedroll I had been sleeping on and tied it closed before looking over at the breakfast sitting by the fire. There was some sort of meat that Brom had fried on a flat stone and a very meager pile of edible plants. Ignoring the roll of his eyes as I picked up several brown-green leaves and chewed them, swallowing with a slight grimace.

"I will not be the cause of death for any animal when there is any other option possible. What would you think if a creature, suppose a dragon, decided you would make a good meal?"

"People are not food. Rabbit is."

Saphira blew smoke in her amusement. _I have never attempted to eat a human or an elf, but I doubt they would taste much different than deer. Perhaps I will try sometime._

Unsure whether the dragon was serious or not, Brom and I exchanged glances and dropped the topic. Saphira rumbled her impatience and I gathered my small bag of things. It was time. Brom went to finish saddling Saphira and I began to walk over. However, my eyes caught on the light blue flower sticking through the thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before. I knelt next to it.

Identifying the plant as winter's breath, which was useful in many brews, I began to dig it up from the ground, taking all from the petals to the roots.

"Angela!" Brom called from the top of a hill twenty paces away. "Are you coming or not?"

Grumbling, I walked over. "You are the one who is insisting that I come along anyway."

"Oh, of course you would prefer to starve in the woods as you were before we crossed paths?" He said sarcastically.

"I was doing fine." I defended.

"You weighed nothing. And then, weakened as you were, you challenged one of the Forsworn singlehandedly."

"If I hadn't fought him, I would have only been killed later. I did best one of their number. And he had orders to take me to Galbatorix."

Brom pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache and sighed. "Come. Vrael and the others will be meeting in three days, and you and I are both to be there. After that, you can do as you please. I do not care."

Saphira raised her head. _We really should take off. Come, Angela._

I glanced at the dragon and walked over. She crouched down to make it easier for me to mount, but I rolled my eyes at her, leaping to her foreleg before settling easily behind Brom on her saddle. Brom gave me a look and withdrew the hand he had extended to help me.

I decided to answer him for once. "I've grown up around dragons. If I could not mount one by now, I'd be hopeless. And my father's dragon was twice Saphira's size."

He took a steadying breath and faced forward. I grinned. Since I had woken and met Brom, I had taken it upon myself to annoy him. It was boring trying to recover, and his reactions amused me greatly and it was also surprisingly easy. He had beseechingly asked Saphira for help, but it had been a futile effort as she found our bickering even more entertaining than I did. Occasionally she would even join.

–My opinion on traveling by dragonback changed greatly after I had traveled the amount of land it takes a day of leisurely flying over in the course of a week and a half hard traveling, but my opinion is now this. Traveling, in any form, is torture. –

Within hours, I was bored out of my mind, but I knew it would take several days to cover the distance we had already flown a mere few hours later. But for once, it was not the never-ending monotony of traveling that wore on me, but a near constant ache in my chest, from the still healing wound. More than once, I had ended up in a coughing fit. After the third, Brom instructed Saphira to land.

"Are you alright?"

I was coughing from the rough landing and the pain had forced my eyes closed. Still, in the back on my mind, a scathingly sarcastic comment almost reached my lips. Instead, I shook my head. It was a testament to Brom's temperament that he was considerate to me after how much I had gone out of my way to bother him.

He helped me to the ground and cast a spell to warm the air around me, draping his cloak around my shoulders. He began to gather wood and make a fire as I watched without speaking. "Sit, Angela. You need to rest."

I didn't protest at all that night, even when he gave me broth for dinner. Perhaps it was that that worried him so much as I saw the glances he threw at me. The sun had not even entirely set before I drifted off into a fitful sleep, curled up against Saphira's side.

When I woke, Brom was already loading everything onto Saphira. I watched for a minute before standing and grabbing a pack to tie to her saddle. Brom took it from me with a frown. "Your fever is returning. You shouldn't exert yourself." I didn't respond then, and I even allowed him to help me onto Saphira. To my surprise, he put me in front.

"I'm going to put you to sleep." He said quietly. I turned to look at him, a protest on the tip of my tongue when he sighed. "Angela, believe me. I am no healer, and you are in no position to help yourself. We do not have the time to wait for you to fully heal, and there is no reason for you to be awake anyway. Pleas just take down whatever wards you have up so I can cast the spell."

I disabled the wards and nodded to Brom. "Slytha." He whispered, and I slumped against him in the saddle.

–I believe that may be the best way to travel. After all, it seems to go the quickest. –

"Come on, wake up." Brom's voice cut through my dreams. I blinked, a pang of sadness hitting me. It was been a good dream. A memory of childhood bliss, dodging trees in Du Weldenvarden, calling back to Vanilor as he teasingly dove to catch us gently in his talons. It had once been our favorite game, trying to escape him. "Are you alright?"

I stretched, the ache in my chest still there, but duller than before. "Dreams." I stated simply. "Sometimes I still wish for the past." He seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then nodded, dismounting and giving me a hand. "Where are we?"

"Doru Araeba."

I spun angrily. "You kept me unconscious for days?"

He chuckled. "Yes. You needed it. You look better now, and do not try to tell me you were alright before." I looked away. "All the surviving riders are here, and all the dragons, wild and bonded. I am the last to arrive."

"How many?" I asked quietly.

Brom's expression darkened. "There are twenty-one wild dragons that have survived." He met my eyes. "Before this all started there were over one hundred. Of the bonded pairs, I am one of seventeen to have survived. Among us, there is also Galeís, a riderless dragon, and Thuviel. He lost his dragon last month in a battle protecting a hatchling dragon before aid arrived and drove off the Forsworn. We are all who are left."

I looked at the ground, sadness overwhelming me at the losses the riders had been suffering. Half their remaining number had flown from one elven city not six months previous. Brom took my arm and led me over to a crater shaped depression in the ground. All of the riders and dragon sat on the slopes and spoke to each other.

Loifel, an elven rider with a steely gray dragon looked over at me and gave a grim smile. "Hello, Meira. Vrael said that you would be joining us here." I nodded slowly. "He said that you have twice faced the Forsworn and survived. That, and the fact that Galbatorix wants to find you badly, pushed him to call you here for your protection as well as preserving our resources."

I coughed several times before I could respond. "Why does he want me?" The question had been nagging at me since Morzan had told me that.

He shrugged. "We are unsure, but believe it is from the fact that you are a human, but you are powerful. He seeks after power like a bee to honey. He may want you for his order, or he may believe that you possess some secret he may be able to gain from. Alas, we cannot know." He took my arm as I coughed again, and Brom came over to take my arm. Loifel looked concerned. "May I try and heal you?"

"I am healing." I stated flatly. "There is no magic that can help me further. By all rights, I should be dead. My heart and left lung were run through with a sword." His eyes widened. "Saphira healed me, but it is taking longer that I had hoped."

Silence fell as Vrael, sitting astride Umaroth, entered the center of the depression, looking at the people waiting. There was a long pause before he spoke. I was pleased to hear he chose to speak in the Ancient Language, proving that every word he said was truth. "We are what are left." His expression was grave and his voice held volumes of sorrow. "Galbatorix has been gaining power with every success, and he has no reservations over killing any who stand in his way." He turned to the wild dragons. "I know you had no wishes to abandon your homes, but if we are to have any chance of success, we must stand together. We know now the secret of Galbatorix's power." He paused and looked around, hesitating when he saw me, but then continued his speech. "He has captured countless eldunarí from those who have stood against him, and he has enslaved them to his will." At this, angry murmuring broke out, and some cried out in shock and fury. Several of the dragons trumpeted. Vrael scanned the group once more. "We have fallen when we fought, and there was no chance of our survival without joining here to defend as we lay out a plan. I know not how long we have before Galbatorix strikes here, but I doubt not that he will."

Brom stood suddenly and eyes turned to him. "A week ago I was tracking Morzan across the woods when I suddenly found him. He was in a duel with Angela. But he was not three days from here by dragon back. We have to assume that an attack could come at any time." He sat back down and attention left him.

Vrael nodded his head to Brom. "This is true. We must be vigilant." From there, the discussion swayed to things that were irrelevant to me. Several hours later, the meeting was dismissed. Vrael walked over and looked at me. I was, as always in the few times when I had faced him, a sense of great power and awe washed over me. "A year ago you were climbing trees and breaking rules."

My throat constricted and I met his eyes to respond. "A year ago I was innocent of the ways of the world. I was naïve."

He nodded. "My reasons for drawing you here were not all good." He stated simply, not hiding the truth. "You were most likely safer in the wilderness than you are here. But I cannot let you free while Galbatorix seeks you. I do not believe that you would, but the risk that you would aid him is too great in our present situation. King Evander informed me that you were the one who was able to heal Glaedr and Oromis when Gwendolyn, the most accomplished at magic among the elves, could not. You may not possess the power of an elf or of a rider, but you have a power of your own, and I would not like for you to be my enemy."

I was unsure how to respond to his comment. It was an honor to be complemented by the leader of the riders, but at the same time, there seemed to be a subtle threat hidden in his words, a warning. Not entirely understanding what the warning was for, but perhaps partially cognizant as I thought back on what had happened to me. I had killed and learned to fight. Lying in the human tongue came second nature to me. I was consuming creatures that had lived and breather, and now I had killed in cold blood to provide a meal. I was losing the beliefs I had once held so close, and I realized what he may have meant. Had I thought about it? I needed to consider my actions to keep from falling further. I met Vrael's eyes and nodded.

"I understand."

He gave me a small smile and left. Brom looked at me. "What was that about?" I bit my tongue and didn't respond. He sighed. "Whatever, you don't have to say anything. Come on. We could both use something to eat."

I agreed and we went to get food. I was pleased to discover that there was food provided for those with my preferences as well as for those like Brom. After a brief meal, we turned to go for a walk.

And that was when I saw it.

The shadowy figure of an obsidian dragon hung in the air. The shapes of others followed closely behind. Even as I turned to Brom, Saphira let out a loud trumpet and all eyes turned to the sky. As the dragons gathered to discuss quickly in the bare minutes we had before the Forsworn would arrive, a pit of disquiet formed in my stomach, and I knew, without any doubt, that this would be the final stand.

**Cliffhanger! And yeah, I know, there are no excuses for leaving this so long, and I will not attempt to make any. But here is the chapter. I hope it was up to the normal standards. And I know that it was kind of depressing, and the next chapter or two will be even more so, but I cannot imagine that Angela would be feeling very happy over this time period. Thank you everyone who is sticking this story through with me, and I will not abandon this. Please leave a review and tell me how I did. Thanks!**


	19. XVIII

The Forsworn were drawing nearer, the dragons flying in a tight V that spread outward from the midnight dragon. Vrael was shouting instructions to the dragons and riders, ordering them to get into position and be ready to fight. Brom leapt to Saphira's back before turning to me.

"Hide, Angela, get out of sight! You can't fight here and you know it." I hesitated, looking at the enemy. He frowned. "You are still weak, and that is not even mentioning the fact that you have an oath that will prevent you from fighting."

I nodded reluctantly and went into a near copse of trees, sitting down in the shadow of an ash tree, my heart pounding as I waited for the fight to begin. I did not want to watch for a terrible sense of foreboding had spread throughout my body, but at the same time I found myself entirely unable to turn away from the impending bloodbath.

The two forces met in a clamor of roars and the resounding of steel. Immediately one pair fell though I was unable to see whose side they were on. It was an awful and yet awesome fight as I watched the battle, unable to assist in any way. Several dragons were on the ground, a few grievously injured or dead, others still fighting.

It went all right until Galbatorix called on his masses of eldunarí. A bright emerald dragon crashed to the ground not thirty paces from where I waited, the vibrations from the impact running through my body. I tried to push the sickening crunch the impact had made from my mind, but could not. It had been imprinted upon my memories with terrible vividness.

A massive surge of power seemed to sweep outward from the rider of the black dragon and there was a sharp crack. Vrael's dragon began to spiral out of control at an alarming speed toward the ground. Even as they were about to crash, Umaroth spread his wings wide, injured and uninjured, and gave one mighty beat, screaming out in pain as the wind ripped at the broken wing. He landed with a crash, but Vrael slid off uninjured before quickly tending to his dragon's wound.

More riders passed into the Void as the fray grew longer. Then the wards on the wild dragons fell through, unable to be supported by the remaining number of fighters. It was a second's pause as everyone froze, and then the single most horrible thing I had the misfortune to witness came to pass. Shouting a word of death in the ancient language, Galbatorix grinned with triumph. The remaining eleven of the wild dragons died as one, their limp and lifeless forms falling to earth like stones.

Shock hung in the air for the briefest moment as fighting stopped among the Forsworn as well as the remaining order of riders. However, as Shruikan landed beside Umaroth and Galbatorix drew his blade, advancing toward Vrael, the bloodshed began again. I cast my eyes about to find a flash of sapphire on the ground. Panic overtook me for a second before I saw Saphira move, darting her head at a larger ruby dragon, fighting to sink her teeth into his neck. Brom guarded her closely, fighting Morzan without restraint, swords dancing in the light. They were within a far stone's throw of my hiding place. For an instant I was tempted to abandon my refuge and fight, but then my small supply of common sense made a rare visit. No matter how much I resented it, Brom was right in the fact that I was injured. I would be nothing more than a nuisance to the weakest of the Forsworn if I even tried to match blades with them.

Three dragons remained: Umaroth, Saphira, and a muddy brown dragon whose name I did not know. A single rider who had lost his dragon in the earlier months also fought. Blood stained his body but he paid it no heed. Death was in his eyes. The only thought that remained was to take down whoever he could with him. One of the Forsworn had been taken down, but the rest remained, surrounding the last of the order.

They reminded me of the livestock as they face the last seconds before the slaughter. They fought and resisted the impeding fate that they knew was coming their way. Their loss was inevitable, but they fought.

A high, piercing cry broke through the air and I tore my eyes away from Brom and Saphira to see, to my horror, that Vrael's dragon, the most ancient of the riders, was in a heap on the ground, a sword planted hilt deep between his jeweled eyes.

What followed was, if anything, even worse. In the instant of distraction that followed the death of the ancient one, a black dagger flew from Moran's hand, severing the spine of Saphira. Then, Morzan laughed.

At that moment, there was nothing else I could do to hold myself back. My own life meant nothing, and the chances were that I would be found eventually were high enough that I intended to do something. My sudden appearance was enough to off balance Morzan the slightest bit. The minute hesitation in his attack allowed Brom to raise his sword and block the killing blow that was about to fall. Saphira was stretched out on the dirt, her eyes clouded as life faded. I knew it. She knew it. Morzan knew it. And Brom knew it. There was no hope. Through the tears and blood, Brom fought on, seeking to avenge the partner-of-his-heart.

The ruby dragon turned and stalked over to me, a low growl rippling from his throat. I feinted and then lunged toward the dragon's neck, but he was ready and leapt back. Behind me, I was vaguely aware that the rest of the Forsworn were not fighting. They were waiting, waiting like vultures to descend once the kill was finished. Vrael and the brown pair fought Galbatorix and an olive green dragon and his rider. Almost forgotten on the perimeter of the battle stood the dragonless rider. Partially concealed behind a willow tree, he chanted in the ancient language, a glow seeming to come from his skin. No one seemed to have noticed but me.

One of my double blades bit sharply into the red dragon's talon and caught. The beast ripped his leg back, tearing the sword from my arm. We met each other's eyes and time seemed to stop. The leg he had raised to end my life on the earth hesitated and I saw something in his eyes. I recognized it as pain, not physical, but something deeper, something profound. The leg went over my head and I recognized that the dragon had spared me for the moment. An eternity seemed to pass and then I felt a light pressure on my mind. It was not a risk I would have taken if I sought to live, but I lived only because the dragon before me had delayed his killing of me. I lowered my barriers.

_There is no hope, Little Elf-human. Not for you. Not for me._

An image filled my mind and I responded, beginning to fight him again with moves of a deadly dance, not intending to injure or kill, but to give the impression of a battle. _What do you mean? _I demanded.

_The Forsworn will conquer. Freedom and liberty will die. They are power-hungry, all of them. They care not that by their hand will come the destruction of the land._

I swiped at his nose and he responded with a scorching burst of flame. _Then why do you fight? _I demanded of him, confused and angry. I saw Brom fall as Morzan's sword laid open his stomach. Saphira was lying in a pool of her own blood, shallow, weak breaths filling her lungs. With every one, I doubted more that the next would even come.

_He has my eldunarí, child, my heart-of-hearts. _I froze in shock for an instant and lowered my blade slightly. _There is no hope for me, Little Elf-human, none at all. I have no choice and no name. Even now I feel my identity slipping away from the magic of the dragons. In the time it takes a week to pass I doubt that I shall even be able to speak as I do now._

There was a moment where it seemed that the twisted rider of the black dragon would fall, but there was a pause as Vrael gazed at the one who had at one time been his student. In that moment, as Vrael hesitated to take the life of one he had at one time cared for. But the only repayment for the mercy was dealt out with a crooked grin. Galbatorix's sword bit deep into Vrael's side. Time had stopped. In the heavy blanket of silence that seemed to fall despite the noise, the words of the single rider rose and fell with a rushed cadence. My ears caught a few words and widened as I realized what he was doing. The Forsworn seemed to notice at the same time. There was fear and then panic as they sought to get into the air.

Morzan's dragon looked at me once more. _I am sorry, but I wish you luck. _Before I could even think to defend, I was struck by the foreleg of the blood red dragon and felt something in my chest give as I was knocked to the ground, my head also slamming against the earth. Morzan paused only to remove the sword from beside Brom before climbing onto his dragon and following the others.

In the chaos, the brown dragon had grabbed Vrael in his claws and took to the skies, beating a retreat out over the churning sea. Sitting painfully from where I had been knocked, beside Brom and Saphira. As my mind cleared from the pain and confusion of the blow, the energy from the Thuviel, the elven rider, began to pulse. Then without warning, his body crumbled into nothing and the power expanded outward. Only the conditioning of my teacher Gwendolyn saved me. Without thinking, a strong shield expanded from me and was buffeted violently by the shockwave.

My energy was draining quickly as I fought the raw magic that was pulsing against it. Not realizing, I sank back to the ground, but cheek resting in the blood-soaked earth. A large blurry shape of deep sapphire and a small, dark form beside it slid in and out of focus. Right before the last of my awareness faded, I felt a gentle and weak touch on my mind.

_If he lives and if you live, tell him to keep fighting. Tell him…_

Then death came. Whatever else the dragon wished for me to tell her rider was lost to the Void. As darkness took over my vision, I made a silent vow. I would honor the last request of the aquamarine dragon if I could. But first, I myself would have to survive.

**I don't really like the ending so much, but I think it will do. And if anyone has any advice for writing these battle scenes, or could tell me how this was –brutal honesty is preferred**– **it would be greatly appreciated. **

**Review and tell me what you think!**


	20. XIX

–The following section is one which was hard to write even after all the years that have passed since it occurred. What follows is the tale of Brom's physical recovery and mental anguish after the lost of his beloved companion, Saphira. It astounds me how my actions then affected the future so much. If I had allowed Brom to die as he had begged me to, many of the Forsworn would still live, Galbatorix would never have lost an egg, Eragon would never have been born, and the resistance against Galbatorix would never have existed. So here it is at last. Anyway, it is time to continue with my story.–

I woke up half an hour later, though it seemed only seconds. The sun was shining down on me as if the horror that had just occurred never had been. But the devastation remained. Trees and bushes smoldered with dying flames. Corpses littered the ground. The snow was stained a vibrant red. I blinked, raising a hand to shield my eyes from the dazzling light, but winced as I felt something in my chest pull. Gathering my strength, I pushed myself into a sitting position and turned toward Brom. He was unconscious but breathing steadily. His skin was wan and his brow beaded with sweat. The body of his dragon lay beside him, cold. There was no denying that as soon as he woke the madness would take a hold of him. It always did when a rider lost their dragon. How cruel was fate that he wasn't even allowed to share his partner's last moments? Instead, he had laid asleep only feet from his dying dragon, unable to ease the pain of her final breaths or provide any sort of comfort. Saphira had died alone.

I forced myself to get to my feet, gasping as I realized that I must have landed badly on my leg. The knee was purple and swollen, easily visible through a tear in my clothes. I ignored it, knowing my needs were irrelevant at the time. My wounds pained me, but Brom was soaked in blood. Looking around, my eyes fell on a cabin several hundred feet away. It was the cabin of a hired hand that had waited on the riders. It would have to do. Gritting my teeth, I dragged Brom over and opened the door, freezing with horror at what I saw.

A man lay on the ground, his hand frozen in a claw like grip, reaching for the door. His face, or what remained, hung from his skull as if it had melted. Fighting the urge to be sick, I realized exactly what would have befallen me if I had been a second slower with the shield.

I was still maintaining the shield, but though I could not feel that it was doing anything, the grotesque form of the man scared me enough not to take the shield down. Using magic to remove the corpse, I carried Brom in and put him on the single cot. I had to clean his wound several times before the dried blood and battle grime was gone. Then I started on spells for deep healing.

After I had done all I could, I decided to survey the carnage, looking for survivors. There was one dragon that might have survived until the energy wave, but all was still. All were dead. Brom and I were the only living beings in the area. Even the bugs and plants in the area surrounding the shockwave seemed to have died. I walked farther, finding that there was life as I went farther from the battlefield. I took their energy as I walked, not even caring that I was leaving behind empty husks of plants. The wake of death behind me could not trouble my mind after the number of riders and dragons I had just seen killed. At the base of a larger tree, I gave into my pain and healed my wounded knee before surveying the damage to my chest. I had a single broken rib. Fixing it with a quick spell, I began to walk again, gathering herbs and digging for roots. I would need everything I could find.

When I returned to the cabin, I considered Brom for a while before taking some of the Elderwort root I had gathered. Steeped in water, it would make a strong magical suppressant. I had learned that at least among the elves when Gwendolyn had begun to teach me the basics of magical healing. A magic user not in their right mind could be dangerous, and I had no doubt that Brom would be entirely unbalanced when he woke. I tore my cloak into strips and bound him to the bed, making sure that he would not be able to get up if he woke. There was no doubt in my mind that if allowed, Brom would join his dragon in death.

Then I released my spell and allowed Brom to wake. A heart wrenching scream ripped from his throat and he fought violently against my restraints, straining them near their limit. "Saphira!" he cried out, confirming that what I had done was torture, but I sat there without moving, thinking. Was there truly a reason for what I was doing? If keeping alive was condemning him to a life of suffering, should I? I tried to block his voice from my ears as he screamed. I walked over and poured a spoonful of a potion I had set to steep into his mouth. A sedative. He fought it for a long while before he lay still, unknowing.

Shaken deeply, I went back to the battlefield and went about preserving Saphira's corpse and also beginning to clear a massive grave. If Brom ever was to keep going, he would not leave his dragon's decaying corpse for the birds and animals to feast on. I gave up quickly on moving the dirt. In my weakened state I was able to do little, and I knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before Brom was recovered to even the point where he could think rationally. I returned to the cabin and quickly gave in to an uneasy and nightmare-filled sleep.

It was Brom's screams that woke me sometime the next morning and I silenced him with magic before I set to work, hardening my heart against his pain as I treated his wounds again. It was for the greater good. Or at least that was what I told myself.

–In time I believe Brom agreed as well, but that took years, decades even.–

On the third day, Brom's fever broke, and with it, the tortured screaming ceased. Now aware, he would sit for hours staring at the wall, unmoving as he let himself be drowned in his grief. I knew that, if anything, his withdrawn silence was worse than the screams.

Over the next few days, Brom's body healed, but not once did he speak nor move nor react. With a heavy sigh I sat on the bed beside him and rested my hand on his forehead, providing what limited comfort I could, knowing it was like trying to dry the ocean with a single cloth.

Then he spoke.

"Let me die." The hoarse whisper startled me and I turned to look at him, meeting clouded eyes. "I need to join her."

I bit my lip and shook my head slightly, unsure of myself. "I will not."

He did not speak for another day, and then it was no better. He fought against his bonds. He yelled at me, cursed at me, and cried. He begged me to kill him or at least to let him kill himself, but I refused to give in. But as he continued, my resolve slowly weakened. It was a week after the battle that I had exhausted the supply of edible plants in the vicinity, and I was forced to consider a different food supply.

That was how I found myself staring at a large white rabbit, a dagger in my hand. It hopped a foot closer, nose twitching, took a bite of grass and hopped another foot. The dagger felt like fire in my hand, thirsty for blood. I bit into my lip, breaking the skin as I made my decision. Closing my mind to the bright spark of energy that was the rabbit's existence, I prepared myself. The rabbit chewed another mouthful of grass, blissfully unaware of my presence only five yards downwind. Before I could talk myself out of it, I sent the dagger flying from my hand, and watched it pierce the snow white coat of the rabbit. For the briefest moment, panic and pain, mixed with confusion, emanated from him, but then the light left his eyes and the rabbit went still.

I fought the urge to become sick as I removed the dripping blade of the dagger from the rabbit's warm flesh. The white fur of the rabbit became stained with red, and I closed my eyes. I had given up the last of my childlike innocence. I had killed an innocent being in cold blood. Sickened, I sliced strips of meat from the carcass. Finally, with my hands stained red, I carried it back to the cabin and dropped it into boiling water to cook.

As it cooked, I went outside and washed my hands repeatedly, trying to cleanse the guilt of my deed from my hands. By the time I returned, I was done. I cut the meat into pieces and carried a plate to Brom.

"If I untied your arms, will you try to kill yourself?" I asked bluntly, looking at him. He gave me a dark, hateful glare. "If I did, you took my magic. It wouldn't make a difference." I nodded and decided he was right. Unbinding his hands and arms, I handed him a plate and watched as he pushed the food around. "You killed." He stated in an emotionless voice. His tone sounded uninterested, but I could feel the barb, provoking me, tormenting me.

"I killed for you." I responded in a tone nearly as flat as his. "And if you do not eat that, I will force you to. I killed, but I will not let it be in vain.

He growled and swallowed down the meal without even seeming to taste it. I didn't care. So long as he ate, I couldn't care less if he tried to rebel or resist me in that way. In fact, if it showed that he was at least allowing a portion of his mind to stray from thoughts of Saphira for even a brief time, it was worth it. I knew Brom would never be the same. I was no fool. But I could hope his life meant more than what he intended, that is, a single slash of a knife or a word whispered of magic.

I decided then that it was time for Brom to see Saphira's body. He obviously was not healing, and I doubted he ever would, but he needed to see her with his own eyes. It was utterly heartbreaking to see him completely break down, cradling her head on his lap. I understood even more upon seeing that how terrible what I was doing was to him. It was hours before he moved, but I could not leave him for fear of him taking his own life. And when he moved, it was only at my command.

I felt terrible about it, but I forced him to see the truth that she needed to be buried. I knew I did not have the power to lift a full grown dragon, and it took all my ingenuity to create a way to move her body, but I found a way. I manipulated the dirt to move in a circular motion, not unlike the waves in the sea. Gently I moved the body to rest in the grave. Brom was on his knees, sobbing, as I replaced the dirt over the body. I placed a flat white stone that I had found over the mound and looked at Brom. "When I let you use magic again, you should inscribe it." He didn't respond.

–That time was the most wearying in my life, but it is interesting to see how much difference a single decision can make. If I had given in, as I was so often tempted, to letting Brom relinquish his life and join Saphira in death, we would have had no hope of success now as we fight the king. That makes me think more than anything else that there is truly such a thing as fate.–

When he managed to return from the silence and sullenness Saphira's burial had put him into, Brom took to watching me. I was sitting across the room, making myself a pair of boots from the skins of the animals I was killing to feed the two of us, and trying to ignore Brom's gave.

"Why?" he spoke silently.

I looked up at him, confused. Why what…? Then, when I met his eyes, I knew. Why was I keeping him alive to suffer? "Because it is right." I said simply. "Life has meaning. To throw it away is wrong, no matter how much you want to give up." He was listening, but his eyes were dull and cold. To him, life had no more meaning.

"Why?" He asked again.

I shifted on my seat. "By killing yourself, you would abandon everyone else. We are losing, of that there is no doubt no matter how much we deny it, but to give up is a coward's move. Saphira gave her life for the cause we are fighting for. You would ignore her sacrifice?" He flinched as if I had hit him. "You will be reunited with her one day in death, but I believe that you still have a purpose. Avenge her death." He was staring at me. My voice softened. "Before she died, while you were unconscious, Saphira spoke to me." I had his full attention. There was need in his eyes. I could see him waiting anxiously to hear his dragon's final words. "She told me that if I lived and if you lived, that I should tell you to keep fighting." I touched his mind and waited for him to acknowledge me before I gave him the memory.

_If he lives and if you live, tell him to keep fighting. Tell him…_

I left the cabin for a while, allowing him to grieve in peace. I had not restrained him, but after hearing the last words of his dragon, I doubted strongly that he would deny her death wish, at least, not immediately.

The next morning, there was something in Brom's eyes that had not been there since before Saphira's death. Purpose. I considered him awhile before speaking. "If you will promise that you will not attempt to kill yourself, I will let you have your magic and not tie you."

"I promise." He whispered in the Ancient Language, binding himself to the promise. I raised my eyebrows and he closed his eyes. "I could not deny her last request." He said in a grief filled voice. "Even if it the last thing I want to do." I nodded.

Later that day I found Brom outside; he was standing before her grave with tears running freely down his face. He knelt in front of the white stone and began to carve into it. When he left an hour later, I went to read his inscription.

_Here lies my beloved Saphira, the partner of my heart, a faithful friend and companion. May she rest in peace always and know that to the end of days, she will never be forgotten._

I closed my eyes as I felt a tear escape. Then I cast a spell on the grave marker, making sure it would never weather or be moved. When I finished, I went about searching for a way off the island without a dragon.

The answer came a few days later as I was exploring. In a bay sheltered from the sea, there were several fishermen's boats. They were designed to whether the sea, but also were intended to be driven my more than two people. I sighed. With magic, it could be done.

And that was how, several days later, after we had gathered feed for the trip that Brom and I found ourselves being tossed about on a violent sea. The waves were easily the size of our boat and often crashed over the side. Brom remarked once that for being so insistent that he not kill himself, that I was pretty bent on killing the both of us. It didn't surprise me that he didn't seem very worried about dying. In fact, I am rather inclined to think he was hoping I let the ship capsize.

–Perhaps with a competent sailor it would not be as bad, but I feel I would rather crawl a thousand miles on my hands and knees than spend a single night on a ship.–

Brom seemed to take a perverse pleasure in watching me suffer from sea sickness as the boat rolled on the waves. I refused to snap at his comments, however, as I knew that being sick was nothing compared to what I had put him through.

It was with a bit of surprise, then, when we found ourselves on solid ground again. I believe it was pure luck more than any amount of skill that had kept us alive out on the sea. But there we were on the white sand of an isolated beach, safe from the cool, gray water that had threatened to swallow us for so long. We stared up at the Spine from the far side of the mountains for a long while, neither of us having had a plan more concrete that getting off Doru Araeba.

Brom spoke first, but he didn't once take his eyes of the trees that seemed to stretch up endlessly. "The Spine is a wild place, and danger waits around every turn. Though I have never before been this far north in the Spine, I know it from when I was young." I looked at him for a minute and nodded. He continued. "If we cross, perhaps we can find Therinsford. From there, I will find Morzan and kill him." His eyes flashed with a combination of grief and pain. The iron-like cold in his voice made me shiver, and I knew Brom would fight to his death to make pay those whom he found at fault for Saphira's death.

I nodded, unsure of what else to do, and considered my own path, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I would do. It was the same as I always had. I would go wherever my feet decided to carry me. For every time I had made my own plans, fate had carried me where she pleased.

**There you go! I know it was long in coming, but with the end of the school year and AP testing, my time needs to be prioritized. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought. Love it? Hate it? Tell me.**


	21. XX

"Are you sure you know where we are going?" I asked for what must have been the hundredth time as we cut our way through a patch of thorny bushes.

"We are going east. It is not that hard to go in a single direction." I frowned. Without the ability to see the sun though the thick treetops, I was doubtful. Perhaps it is just the fact than my sense of direction is worse than a blind rabbit, but it did not seem like we were going straight. But every evening without fail, there would be vague glimpses of a sky colored red and orange ahead of us and I would know that we were indeed going east.

Except for brief stilted conversations, our journey was almost entirely silent. Brom had changed greatly with the passing of Saphira. Before he had had an almost childlike attitude, and had been happy. Now, a frown featured permanently on his face, and his eyes, more often than not, were haunted with pain and shimmered with withheld tears. I did not bother speaking after a while. The only replies I got were in the form of a word or brief sentence and were always accompanied with an annoyed scowl.

I was exceedingly grateful for the leather boots I had fashioned myself while we were on Doru Araeba. Without them, I had no doubts that I would be barefoot and my feet raw after the paths, or lack of, that we used to travel. As it was, my feet were covered in painful blisters no matter how often I healed them with magic.

I counted ten nights and eleven days of unending travel before anything eventful happened. I woke up, and Brom was gone. There was no note, nothing to tell me where he had left to go or when he would be back. I waited for the entire day waiting, and then lingered for several more, hoping he would return, but finally I accepted that he was gone. He filled my thoughts as I wondered what had happened. Had he decided to abandon me, thinking he would be better off on his own, or had he simply wandered off, stumbling into a situation he could not handle. Perhaps he was lying dead or injured at the bottom of a cliff, not having seen it in the dark.

—It was only at our next meeting, years later, that I had discovered the truth of what had happened. Brom had seen Morzan's dragon flying above the Spine, and in his single-minded determination, he had set out after his dragon's killer, leaving me behind.—

Alone in the Spine, a place I had never before seen, I continued to walk in the direction I believed to be east. At the beginning of each day, I would wait for the colored sky of sunrise to tell me if I was continuing on the right path. More often than not, I was turned around, or traveling more in a northerly direction than east, but after nearly two weeks, I realized I had reached the mountainous region of the Spine, having fought my way through the thick forested borderland.

Having flown over the Spine on the way to Doru Araeba, I knew just how large they were. No doubt it would take me months or even a year to make my way to the other side. Even worse, there were tales of animals and monsters living on the slopes that were remnants of the time before even the elves had ventured to Alagaesia. In the old elven legends there were tales of monsters and the fights against them. I knew for a fact there still lived mammoth sea monsters in the sea to the west of Alagaesia. Monsters with the size and strength to rival dragons, but despite everything, I had no desire to live my life secluded in the barren forests of the Spine. I longer for human company, an urge only magnified by Brom's abandonment of me.

That was how I found myself walking a deep canyon of an old dried up river bed. The river had snaked it way to the coastline it seemed, and I had found a collapsed portion and had climbed down, knowing that I had a much better chance on flatter ground, protected from the worst of the cold mountain winds. The canyon most likely took the flattest ground, something I was thankful for. With magic I was able to get all the water I needed, and what magic couldn't get, boiled snow was always an option. Countless small animals had made their homes in the canyon which, come summer, must be full of plant life.

The old canyon seemed to twist and turn as it made its way east. The walls of the canyon loomed around a two hundred feet overhead though the canyon itself was often only around thirty feet across. Fifteen and a half days passed as I slowly walked through the canyon which, thankfully, continued on a path mostly east. I could still see the rise of mountains on either side of me, but I hoped that eventually that would end. I ate whatever came across my path, numbed to the killing of small creatures. My hands seemed frozen and my feet numb. Without magic to weak like a thick cloak, there is no doubt in my mind I would have frozen to death, the chill from the wintery mountains seeping down into the canyon. It was a boring and tedious journey.

And then, something happened that could have only happened to me.

It was near evening, and I was preparing dinner on the edge of a cliff when I heard a noise from down in the rift. For a while I was confused at the deep rumbling before my stomach clenched in fear. It was the noise of a rock fall, and a large one by the sound of it. It had come from behind me, around the bend. After a brief hesitation, I walked a hundred yards to see around the bend and my eyes widened. A practically vertical wall of rocks blocked my path. After looking at it a while and deeming it unsafe to climb, I continued on my path eastward, hoping the rock fall was just a random event unlikely of repeating itself.

As I continued forward, I began to hear a different sound. It was a sound alien to the wilderness of the Spine. Metal. I felt as if I had fallen into an icy river. My hands trembled and I stood still, pressed against the wall and entirely unsure of what to do next. Before I could decide, I saw rank after rank of weapon bearing men, wearing the traitor rider's sigil, walking down the canyon. Before they say me I turned and ran toward the rock wall, looking up to determine if I could climb it.

And then, my already abysmal luck sunk to a new low. From the edges of the canyon, now around a hundred feet high, I could see the shapes of huge beast like figures. Urgals. And if my eyes didn't deceive me, kull.

Understanding dawned in my mind, but it was neither welcome nor pleasant. If my suspicions were correct, as they usually are and proved once again to be, I was trapped in the middle of an ambush of Galbatorix's soldiers by urgals.

—Any other time, I would have found it extremely amusing that the best of the best soldiers of Alagaesia, not only having gotten utterly lost in the Spine, had been outsmarted by a band of urgals and walked into an ambush, but, having also been trapped in said ambush, I utterly failed to find any amusement.

I heard the sound of another patch of wall being collapsed somewhere east of me in the canyon, most likely trapping the soldiers in the canyon to be killed or starved as the ambushers wished. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, my mind racing as I considered what to do. I could talk to the soldiers and pose as a sort of medicine woman. After all, there were stories of such women living deep in the Spine. They featured most in children's stories and legends. But, if I became friendly with the soldiers, if I did manage to come up with some way to escape, the chance that the urgals would kill me, a good probability, would increase drastically for consorting with their enemy. Not for the first time, I cursed fate and chance. Surely my life was some sort of twisted game to them if my situation at the moment was even possible.

So there I was, trapped in a thirty foot wide, hundred feet deep dried up canyon. A wall of unscaleable rock was to my back, and I faced an army thousands of men strong. That was bad enough, but then the addition of the urgals, who had began throwing flaming branches into the gap. _No, not branches. _I noted detachedly. _Not branches. Trees. Flaming trees._

Screams echoed eerily through the canyon as men were crushed and burned by the trees. Archers had begun to shoot arrows upward toward the urgals, but it was a hopeless cause. Boulders followed along with volleys of spears and arrows. An arrow crashed into the wall beside my head and I cringed, erecting stronger wards around myself.

I felt something, a human sized boulder, land only feet from me and I took a breath. I needed to get out. I would die if I didn't. I recalled once that I had seen a rider fly without their dragon, but after a moment of consideration, I dismissed the idea. To lift myself, I would have to push off the ground. The higher I got, the more energy it would take. It was far beyond my level to do such spell work. A sudden solution came into my mind. It was hopelessly complicated and likely impossible, but from my position, I had nothing to lose. I doubt anyone has ever done what I was about to try ever before, but I knew the theory was all there. The energy I had; it was not too much.

Before I could talk myself out of what I was about to do. I closed my eyes, focusing all my concentration into not being in the canyon. I focused on the spell used to move objects instantaneously and opened my magic. Immediately, I felt myself gone, trapped in a cold nothingness. In panic, I tried to draw a breath and failed. There was no air. I could feel no ground, nothing.

In utter darkness, I screamed, hearing no sound. As I passed out from the lack of air to breath, I saw a sudden bright light. Then I knew no more.

I woke up, to my surprise, in the sparse trees overlooking the canyon. As soon as I forced myself standing, I realized with a start that I was surrounded by urgals, weapons drawn. The magic had exhausted me and I was in no condition to fight. Resisting the urge to slap myself on the forehead, I realized belatedly that perhaps I should have focused on arriving on the non-urgal filled side of the canyon.

Having no other option, I drew my swords and set them on the ground before me, raising my hands in surrender and hoping for the best. With a harsh sounding command, I found myself cast to the ground, my hands being bound behind me. At first, I was grateful. It was only a second later that I realized that maybe being a prisoner of the urgals could be worse than death.

**So there you have it. I know it was long in coming, but it is finally here. I promise that the next will be quicker. And, as always, I am open to suggestion as to what happens in this story. If you have a good idea, share it with me. As it is, I just completely changed this part of the story from my plans. So who knows what will happen next. I honestly haven't quite decided. Tell me what you think.**


	22. XXI

One could probably guess that being taken captive by urgals is not among the most pleasant of experiences, but their treatment of me was likely much better than any urgal in human captivity could possibly hope for. During the eleven days we had already traveled, I had been regularly fed and was allowed a small amount of supervised freedom from my bonds. After some thought, I had concluded that it was most likely that the urgals were as wary of my power after my ill-planned display as I was of their power.

The evening of the eleventh day of travel is when the first notable event in my journey took place. The procession had halted and I came out of my reverie with a start. The kull that was carrying me set me on my feet.

—I wish I could recall the conversations of the urgals and kull now that I know the language, but then again perhaps I'd rather not know. One thing I did know was that they were mocking me much of the time, especially my inability to keep pace with the group. —

I was prodded in the middle of my back by the kull who was guarding me, and I scowled, though by then I knew exactly what he wanted. Holding out my wrists, I made no effort to impede the hulking kull as he bound my wrists rather tightly. A smaller urgal with large horns approached, laughing at me in that strange, hacking laugh of the urgals. —_That _sound, at least, I could comprehend by then. — He met my eyes and made a sort of jeering comment I had no hope to understand.

"Fat cow." I muttered, glaring at the urgal. I recognized him as one of the urgals who was constantly pushing me around if it was one of the thankfully infrequent times that he was set to guard me. "Is it really that rewarding to insult a defenseless prisoner half your size?" I asked, ignoring the fact that he couldn't understand me. Smiling slightly, I responded. "I wonder if your mother was a common dairy cow." Despite not understanding my words, the urgal seemed to comprehend the nature of my comment and bared his teeth at me angrily.

The urgal moved with a sudden speed I would never have expected from the heavy beast, and I was unable to respond in time to dodge the sharp-nailed swipe he took at my head. Claws raked across my cheek even as the force of his blow knocked me to the ground, dazed. I pressed my hand against my throbbing cheek and fought against the tears that involuntarily came to my eyes at the burning pain. I pulled my hand away and glanced at it to find blood running down my fingers.

Still stunned by the vicious blow the urgal had dealt me, I looked up. To my immense surprise, my kull guard was standing over me looking furious —As far as I could tell through the hairy, animalistic features.—As I watched, the kull bellowed something in a loud voice which hurt my ears, drawing the attention of all the other urgals. Then, when all were watching, the kull reached out quickly and grabbed the smaller urgal around the neck, snapping it viciously. He tossed the urgal to the side where he lay, dead.

When it was finished, a relatively small urgal, obviously lower in the hierarchy, took up the body over his shoulder and carried it off into the woods, and as if nothing unusual had happened, the urgals returned to their previous activities. Extending down his arm, my guard grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet with what he seemed to intend as gentleness even though my arm was twisted painfully. He stared at the wound on my cheek before shouting something to the others. A terse gesture motioned me to walk forward, and, deep in thought, I followed the group.

It took me a long while to realize it, but we were following a trail then. Surprisingly faint given the ponderous urgals, the path we were following was only apparent to the eye because of the occasional depressed or broken branch, hoof print, or crushed leaves. If I had not known better, I might have passed the path off as a simple deer trail.

It was perhaps too much to ask that for once something not happen to me, for as I was contemplating the trail we were following, a rough hand grabbed my shoulder. The large kull who had been given the duty of guarding me was chattering something hurriedly to another. Before I could react, a foul smelling cloth was pressed over my mouth and nose. For a while I struggled against it, but the fumes of the cloth had already caused me to become dizzy. I faded to unconsciousness, my last thought being a confusing vision of me being roasted over an urgal's cooking fire.

**A.N. I will be updating this more regularly now. Sorry about that and sorry for the short chapter. Anyway, I already have part of the next chapter written. I will remind you that even I don't always know what will happen next and am open to hearing suggestions if anyone has a good idea. Thank you for reading.**


	23. XXII

When I finally woke, I was thankfully not being roasted alive, I was admittedly very confused. I was inside a distinctly lopsided cabin of large proportion made from whole, uncut logs. The lumpy mattress I was lying on, covered by what looked suspiciously like bear pelt, was resting directly on the dirt floor, and it was huge, extending several feet beyond me. I felt as though I was had been shrunk—a very odd sensation. But what caught my eye most about the strange house, and what struck fear into my mind, was the lighting in the room. A human skull was mounted on a stick with a red, flickering fire burning within. The irregular dance of the flames cast strange, constantly changing shadows over the room as the light escaped through the gaping holes where eyes and a nose had once been. Furthermore, the jaw was hanging slightly unhinged, causing the skull to look as if it were laughing in a mocking manner. I repressed a shudder and forced myself to look away from the hideous sight. Perhaps, I mused, I had been kept alive only to become an urgal's lamp. A horrible fate, I decided.

I was alone in that room for hours, yet it did not cross my mind once to try and escape. For one, I had no idea where I was, and the likely hood of actually surviving the spine after my escape was near zero, and also, for all I knew, there were urgals waiting to capture me or kill me as soon as I set foot outside the hut. But then, I mused, why would I have been brought there without being harmed or eaten if the intention of my captors had been to kill me immediately after I had been brought back. And it made even less sense considering the reaction that the one urgal had had when I had been stuck. My eyes once again fell on the skull torch and I shivered uncomfortably. I was not so much afraid as I was disgusted. My elven background favoring the avoidance of killing remained with me even though I had long since resorted to consuming animals to keep from starving when my reliance on plants could no longer sustain me. Yet still, the use of the bones from a living being, especially a sentient being, was abhorrent to me, and gave me a cold, uneasy feeling which I could not shake.

As I waited in that small, one room hut, my apprehension began to face as it was slowly replaced with boredom and hunger.

—Looking back, I cannot help but wonder at my younger self's priorities. One would think that it would be preferable to sit in boredom and hunger than to wait for the door to open, heralding me onto some unknown fate, perhaps even becoming an urgal's dinner. I had sat in anticipation of an urgal coming to get me for whatever they had planned, not considering the fact that urgals were known as man-eating beasts in my impatience for _something _to happen. Yet, perhaps, in the same situation today, I would act in the same manner. I have always hated being bored more than anything else. That is where a large amount of my dislike of travelling stems from.—

Finally, after it seemed that hours had passed since I had first woken, I realized that light was beginning to shine from cracks in the house and from around the fur-pelt door. It was morning. Before the light had started to leak in through the seams of the house I had not realized that it had been night, but now the absence of anyone having come into the hut had a plausible explanation. Also, I realized that I had a headache. I hadn't noticed before, but when I sat up, I immediately wished that I hadn't. I pressed a hand over my eyes, willing the pain away, and then when that didn't work, I reached for my magic and felt the irritating feeling of my connection to magic being suppressed.

I was drugged. That, or perhaps whatever they had knocked me out with in the first place, I assumed to be the cause of my headache. It was a while longer before anything of note happened. Then, the door opened.

I was stunned into silence. I had been expecting an urgal or kull, dressed in typical deer-pelt loincloths, and perhaps carrying a weapon, but before me stood something I had not ever considered before.

A female urgal.

Sure, I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. Of course there were female urgals. There had to be. If there weren't female urgals, then… Well, I don't think I have to continue that explanation. The point is that the appearance of a female urgal in the hut took me completely by surprise. The dam, as I later found a female urgal was called, had fur of an almost charcoal color with patches that were slightly lighter toward her neck and head. Her hair, also black, hung past her waist in a thick, coarse braid. She wore a dress made of pieces of what looked to be fox pelts sewn together. I stared at her, unsure of what she wanted with me and still confused.

Then, looking at me with intelligent eyes, she waved her hand for me to follow, not speaking. Wincing as I moved my head, I rose to follow the urgal. Disobedience, I figured, would benefit me in no way. And, I justified by the death of the urgal who had harmed me, it was at least possible, if not probable, that the urgals were not intending on killing me.

Yet.

Unconsciously, I raised my hand to my cheek and realized with surprise that the wound was healed. Either I had slept far longer than I had thought, or there were those with magic among the urgals. Now _that _was both an interesting and startling idea.

Elven records were vague at best regarding the possibility of urgals who were spellcasters. There were unconfirmed tales from humans, and it was confirmed that some could defend their minds from attack or invasion, but there was no definite opinion on whether the urgals themselves could do magic. After all, even humans with no magical talent could be trained to guard their mind and even sometimes offensively attack with the mind. Most of the time urgals were grouped with beasts rather than any of the sentient species. The dam gestured again for me to follow as she exited the hut. I stepped out, curious to see what lay outside the small, odd structure.

I was disappointed, and my curiosity went dissatisfied. Outside the door of the hut I had slept in were trees. Tall, thick, pine trees. There were no other urgals or buildings within my sight, and nothing else of any interest. I could see the shape of a small deer off between the trees, but nothing I hadn't seen before. The dam continued walking, and I followed, ignoring the consistent pulsing in my head. It was painful, but not debilitating. I was led to a large cave. My interest spiked again as my guide gestured for me to follow. As we neared she pulled back the furs which covered the door and pointedly looked toward the opening. I stepped inside. Despite the fact that she didn't seem to speak my language, it was clear enough what she wanted. Inside, I was once again rendered speechless.

There were eleven chairs, and nine were filled with urgals. But what surprised me was that they were _all _female. The urgal who had led me into the room took one of the empty chairs, and another urgal stood, walking over to examine me. The dam who stood before me now contrasted starkly with the first I had met. Instead of black fur, she had fur that was tan. In places, it was almost white. The urgal observed me a long moment longer before gesturing to the last chair. "_Sit_." She spoke. I started and stared at her in shock, hearing my native tongue. The dam had spoken in the Ancient Language.

I was too stunned to do anything but obey. I took the seat and stared at the almost white urgal as she continued to watch me. I waited for her to say something more, but she turned and said something I could not understand to one of the other dams. The urgal stood and left, returning with one of the rams whom I recognized as one of the urgals who had been one of my captors. The dams seemed to be having a discussion with him which quickly was becoming heated. I shrunk in my chair lightly, not wanting to become part of the brewing fight which I knew must have been about me. Some of the dams had stood and were shouting in their harsh language. It seemed to go on forever before the white dam stood and barked out a single word. The dams all stopped and turned, looking to the one who had commanded me to sit. She was speaking again, and the others were listening. They all sat, some looking rather angry, but they had quit arguing.

Once they had stopped, I realized that I had preferred when they had been yelling at each other. Their argument over, their gazes had all come to rest on me, and I had to put forth a conscious effort to keep from squirming in my chair like an errant child. They began discussing again, but I understood nothing. After a very long hour, whatever was being discussed about me had been concluded, and I had to wonder if I hadn't just been auctioned off as someone's new lamp. The white urgal looked at me.

"_Uluthrek.__ You go. Nalak._" She said, pointing at one of the dams. I frowned before realizing that 'Nalak' must be one of the dams. The word 'ulthrek' still remained unspecified. The dam in question was scowling at me. I nodded unsurely and stood. While the leader of the group knew at least some of the Ancient Language, it was clear that she was not fluent. As the dam whom I had been assigned to rose and left, I cast one glance back before following.

I followed up the side of a steep hill to where a cave cut into the side. Covering the cave's entrance was not a fur as I had been expecting, but rather an intricately woven cloth. It was drawn aside and I was brought through a long tunnel to a more open area of the cave where several other areas branched off. There was a noise from one of them and I turned in time to see a young urgal come running out. He stopped and began speaking in a rapid way before he spotted me. As soon as the child's eyes fell on me he froze with a stunned expression on his face which rapidly gave way to fear. He ducked behind the dam and looked at me like some wild animal.

The irony of the situation was not lost on me as the urgal eyed me like a wild beast. Eventually, with the dam speaking to him, he came out from behind her and approached me, looking me over with a frightened curiosity. I observed him similarly. In a strange way, the young urgal was rather cute. His size was similar to that of a five or six year old human child, and his too-large eyes added to the look. After a minute, he turned and ran back down the cave from which he had originally come. I was brought down a different path to where a small, rough mattress was laid in the corner. The urgal pointed to me and then to the room. I nodded, hoping that I had interpreted correctly that I was to stay in this room. She turned and left, leaving me unsure of what was expected, but the dam returned quickly with an armful of furs and a needle and thread. She laid it out and I saw that a blanket was being made. After observing my work for a few moments, she left again, and that time she didn't return for a long while.

As I worked, I wondered why I had been taken prisoner and just what the urgals seemed to expect of me. Nothing I could think of came to mind. Knowing that there was nothing I could do for the moment, I continued sewing, wondering just how I had gotten myself into that situation and wondering about the significance of the word ulthrek.

**A.N. Sorry… again… Anyway, I will not be abandoning any of my fics, and now that it is summer, I should have time to write. Thank you for reading this.**


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